


Safe With Me

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Hogwarts Era, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-12
Updated: 2007-06-11
Packaged: 2018-10-27 01:37:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 31,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10799019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: The trio of friends insist on placing themselves in some very dangerous situations and their mentors have developed a way for them to reach safety, should they need it.  However, is safety really a place, or is it defined by the people you are with?





	1. Chapter 1 - A Quick Escape

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

7th Year  

 

With only one week left before the Christmas holiday, Hermione was in rare form, preparing herself and the trio for their upcoming mid-term exams.  Dispensing instructions, study guides, review notes and outlining chapters to be re-read, she had Ron and Harry almost caught up from all the time that they had missed over the past several months.

 

Harry had been very reluctant to return to Hogwarts for their seventh year, intent on continuing Professor Dumbledore’s efforts to hunt down and destroy the remaining horcruxes.  Hermione had insisted that Hogwarts would be the best base for their operation, the library provided the research tools they would need and it was by far the safest place they could be.  Even with Dumbledore’s death, the wards around the school remained strong.  Lastly, should Voldemort open his connection with Harry, he would most likely find him where he expected and they would not provide any clues to their actual mission.

 

And, so it was that they decided to return to the school and settled in as typical seventh year students.  Only that their lives were anything but typical.  They knew even before the school year began the priority had to be the discovery and destruction of as many horcruxes as could be found and they went about their daily lives with a determination to get the task completed.  However, they quickly found out that ninety percent of their work was research and Harry had to finally admit that Hermione was right about insisting on using Hogwarts as their operation center.

 

One evening only weeks into the new school year, they were relaxing in the Common Room, each with a book in hand.  Harry paused, removing his glasses to rub his weakened eyes after a long day of reading.  He glanced over at Ron and it struck him at how out of character it seemed to find him deeply engrossed in a book, jotting down notes as he went.  Whether it was the seriousness of their quest or if Hermione’s scholastic influence had something to do with it, Ron had become his strongest supporter and was quickly mastering many texts.

 

Then, as his eyes focused on his other best friend, he was surprised to see her eyes tilted up, not trained on the written word in front of her, but instead on the students doing their homework at a nearby table.  He watched as she listened, lips pursed, taking notes of the discussion that was going on about the current Charms homework.

 

It was at that moment he realized that he was draining the passion from Hermione.  The need for her to learn, to study and the overwhelming desire to take her NEWTs.  It was something engrained in her, something she had planned for, studied for and focused all her energies on for the past six years and here he was, taking it from her.  She wanted to be in class, but she would never tell him this.  In fact, he was sure she’d deny it to the bitter end.  And Ron, well, he was probably perfectly content to skip any classes, but something told Harry that was not in his best interest either.

 

There was something wrong with this whole arrangement.  Harry was prepared to loose his last year of school, but it didn’t seem right to take this from his friends.  Without hunting down these artifacts, they could never defeat Voldemort, but when they did finally accomplish their task, would it be worth it, if he had taken away Hermione’s last year, all her dreams and possibly a future for Ron as well.

 

With this in mind, Harry finally pulled them aside and told them that _he_ wanted to try and take some classes, even if just a few and wanted to know if they would support him in this effort as well.  Hermione tried to remain calm and be the voice of logic, but underneath, he sensed her excitement and even Ron seemed pleased to have a break from the research and a little time to act like a regular teenager.

 

Autumn progressed, alternating between research, outings to investigate their findings, and taking classes.  Amazingly, they succeeded in finding two of the horcruxes.  

 

Finding the first one came at a cost and Harry looked over at Ron, happy and healthy, very much different from that day in September.  Actually, it was Ron’s find in a wizarding travel book that tipped them off on a location to search for the first horcrux.  It had been a childhood home of Rowena Ravenclaw and it took them a couple of days to get there, using a combination of Muggle and Wizard transportation. 

 

**_Two and a Half Months Earlier_**   

 

The trio of friends were quite far from home and on their own for the first time since beginning this quest.  Harry had already experienced some of the perils of hunting down a horcrux from his outing with Professor Dumbledore the previous spring so, he knew it was not something to be entered into lightly.  It required concentration and careful thought.  It could be dangerous and every move had to be thought through to its possible conclusions.  There were consequences, sometimes deadly, to every possible action and Harry didn’t want to be responsible for the injury or death of one of his friends.  So, their little ‘adventure’ was very stressful and very time consuming as they pondered each step in the search for the horcrux.  After they had retrieved the item, they had carefully wrapped it and stored it in a bag that Ron had agreed to carry on their journey home.

 

Feeling it wasn’t safe to travel the main roads, they were cutting through a patch of wooded land, the same direction they had traveled to get there in the first place.  The sun was out and they were walking, wands in hand, ready for any trouble, but feeling pretty good about their discovery.  Then out of the blue, this creature appeared before them.  They all froze in fear for the moment, trying to determine what exactly this being was.  Not a werewolf, but not a man either.  It stood on two legs, but was vicious with sharp teeth barred and an evil look in its red eyes.

 

Harry immediately threw a stunning curse, only partially hitting the creature which seemed to anger it even more and it began to charge directly at Hermione.  Ron pushed her down behind a rock and threw a strong shield charm on her.  Harry’s second curse slammed into the creature’s chest and it stumbled back, but didn’t fall.

 

A moment later it became clear that it wanted the bag that Ron had thrown over his shoulder as it charged again at Ron, running at incredible speed down the hill toward them.  Neither of them had time to react as Ron went flying backwards, landing in a small lake at the bottom of the hill, the beast upon him.  Harry and Hermione were instantly at the shore, trying to throw well aimed stunners at the monster, but afraid to hit Ron, they hesitated.  Hermione was screaming for Ron in panic as he valiantly tried to fend off the attack.

 

The monster’s growls were terrifying and it threw a barrage of fists, claws and bites as it tried to get the bag which was hopelessly tangled on Ron’s arm.  Muddy water splashed in every direction as Ron gasped for air, unable to stand in the current depth, all the while punching at the creature’s face with all his might.  

 

Hermione’s screams were turning to wails as she watched helplessly from shore.  Harry started to enter the water, but Hermione screamed ‘NO!’ instructing Harry to get ready with his strongest binding charm.

 

She called out “Accio Bag” and the sack containing the horcrux flew from the water to Hermione’s hand.  As she suspected, the creature immediately suspended its attack on Ron and flew out of the water toward Hermione.  Harry did as instructed; binding the creature’s legs the moment it reached land and it fell with a thud just feet in front of Hermione who was crouching down in fear.  A moment later, a second and then third curse finally knocked the creature out.

 

Harry wasted not a second before plunging into the water, diving under to get a good grip on Ron’s body that was now choking, sputtering and bleeding into the lake.  Hermione ran to the edge, wading in to help Harry retrieve an exhausted Ron from his watery battleground.

 

Ron managed a few steps before he collapsed onto the forest floor.  Hermione flew into action like a woman possessed, chanting one healing charm followed by another, ripping her own t-shirt off at the hem to use as a bandage and instructing Harry to go and get help.  At first he considered apparating, but they agreed the distance was a bit too far for him to try.  He refused to leave her alone for any length of time with this monster still alive just yards away and Ron too injured to defend either of them should it awake.

 

However, Hermione kept insisting that she needed to stay and tend to his wounds; she knew healing spells much better than Harry, plus Harry would be faster going to get help.  As her panic increased at the waning daylight, Harry finally agreed to leave them.  He gave them his invisibility cloak and left, running as fast as his legs would carry him through the forest, down the country road they had taken until he reached a small cottage that had a fireplace he could use.

 

Returning the next morning with Remus, Tonks and Fred, Harry found his two friends at the same spot in the forest.  Ron lay covered with the cloak, sleeping with Hermione curled up behind him, her hand resting over his forehead, wand in the other hand.  They took a couple of tentative steps toward them and heard rustling that drew their attention to a nearby tree.  Wrapped tightly against the tree with a series of vines holding him motionless was the creature, very much awake, but mute, obviously, due to Hermione’s talent with silencing charms.  The rustle snapped Hermione back to consciousness and her wand was trained on the threesome, her eyes wide with terror as she recognized the rescue party and fell back against the leaves and grass that had been their bed for the evening.

 

That was the moment that Harry noticed a change in Ron and Hermione.  Ron’s injuries landed him back in the hospital wing at Hogwarts and Hermione barely left his side for several days as he healed.  What exactly happened that night, they never really told him, but it was clear that Ron’s attack had made a lasting imprint on Hermione because afterwards, the rows seemed to stop, the bickering lessened and the smiles between them increased.

 

Then, Harry destroyed the horcrux quickly, somewhat too quickly and realized they needed to slow down as their haste resulted in a bad burn to his hand.  Hermione was fuming when Harry appeared in the hospital wing as she sat at Ron’s bedside, holding his injured hand.  Through her sobs, she made Harry and Ron promise her that they would never separate again and be much more careful about destroying these objects.  Her pain was so clear to the two boys, they agreed without a thought, simply wanting Hermione’s tears to stop.  

 

So, a month later, after successfully, and safely, finding the second horcrux, they stored it in a secure location and Remus Lupin was arriving tomorrow to help them determine the best way to destroy it once and for all.  Harry had confided in Lupin, providing him with details about the search for the split souls, but magically swearing him to secrecy.  It was determined that the trio needed someone older and wiser to help with their destruction and Lupin had been Harry’s choice.

 

Meanwhile, they had done their best, or it was better to say, Hermione had done her best, to prepare all of them for their mid-term exams.  Even with bandaged arms and hands, Hermione read to them and quizzed them on their comprehension.  Harry and Ron had decided to focus on Potions and Defense, believing that not only would it benefit them the most out in the field, but it would provide an opportunity for them to become Aurors someday, should the chance arise.  Hermione, with her indomitable spirit, pushed herself to take Charms as well.  This was the reason for her voyeurism on the nearby table as the students did their Charms homework.

 

***

 

The following morning, Harry and Hermione were sitting in the Common Room as a sleepy Ron dragged himself down the stairs to join them and they headed off to breakfast.  Once seated in the Great Hall, Ron started inhaling his meal as usual and moments later the owls began to arrive.  A small, tawny bird dropped his delivery into Hermione’s lap.  She unrolled the note.

 

“Remus will be here by noon.  He said he needs to speak with all of us in private before we look at the item.”

 

“Good.  That gives us a little time to relax.  Fancy a fly?” Ron asked Harry.

 

“Ronald!  You have exams in one more day.  How can you think about flying right now?  Honestly, you two and Quidditch!”

 

“Hey, don’t look at me.  I didn’t ask to go out for a fly!” Harry rebuked.

 

“Thanks for the support, mate,” Ron scowled as he finished his breakfast.  “Hermione, Quidditch is a great stress reliever.  And, believe me, you have us under a LOT of stress right now.  Harry and I aren’t like you; we don’t relax by sitting down to read a thousand page epic every night!”

 

“Don’t exaggerate, Ron.”  She frowned at him, her hands already moving to her hips when she stood as if in defense of her actions.  “And don’t blame me for all your so called stress.  You agreed to take the classes, we all did.”

 

“Hermione, please?  Just for a little while?  I’m tight as a bow string right now.”  Ron changed tactics and started pleading with his puppy dog eyes; something Harry had recently discovered worked wonders on Hermione’s attitude.

 

Sure enough, she backed down and took her seat, much to Harry’s relief.  He had already noticed the nearby students who were preparing themselves to witness another of the famous Weasley/Granger rows.

 

“Fine,” she said in a huff.  “Just go fly around for a while and reduce your stress.  Just make sure you’re back here by noon sharp.”  Grabbing her books, she abruptly left the table and marched out the door.

 

“Do you have to go and do that all the time?” Harry asked.

 

“What?  I got some flying time didn’t I?  I should think you’d be thanking me,” his voice full of indignation.

 

“Look, Hermione is my friend, too and I just don’t like her being upset all the time, and you really know how to push her buttons.”

 

Ron grinned.  “Yeah, I do, mate.”

 

The smile is what did it.  Harry studied that grin for a moment, at first curious as to why he would be proud of the fact he could rile her up like he did, but it didn’t take long for him to figure out that Ron was enjoying this.  He liked to row with Hermione, it was his favorite past-time, maybe even more so than playing Quidditch.  And the funny thing was that no matter how many times they argued Ron also knew which buttons to push to bring her back to her old, usual self.  It was the familiar game they played and they played it well.  Ron was always the master strategist, just as in chess and Hermione; the impetus for the start and the declarer that it was over.  She was the clanging bell that started each round and ended it just as clearly.  Harry?  Well, Harry sometimes was the referee, something he didn’t ask to play in this game of theirs, but a role that he had become accustomed to and was comfortable doing.

 

The boys grabbed their brooms and, now having permission from Hermione, took advantage of the sunny, but cold day, to buzz around the Quidditch pitch for about two hours.  They were back, even before noon, due to the fact that their faces were getting wind burned and quite red from the December chill.

 

Remus arrived at noon as scheduled and they promptly headed for the headmaster’s old office.  “We have some things to discuss and Professor McGonagall needs to know about this as well.” He told them as they spoke the password and ascended the spiral staircase.

 

The new headmistress ushered them in to the familiar office, still untouched other than the reshuffling of some parchments on the desk.  Most of Dumbledore’s gadgets, mementos, books and even his candy dish, remained as it had been the previous spring.

 

They all took a seat and Remus began.  “Do you wish to explain, Minerva?”

 

“Yes, well, I have been reluctant to do so, but I have begun cleaning out some of Professor Dumbledore’s things from this office.  It is a slow process as I try to decipher the importance of any items I come across before even considering discarding them.  The headmaster was not one to keep things just for the sake of keeping them.  They usually had a purpose and a meaning. And so, as I was going through some papers the other day, I came across a letter that he had written.  It appeared it was going to be sent to the head Auror at the Ministry, but was meant for you three to know about and we wanted you to read it.”  She pulled out a piece of parchment and handed it toward the trio.  Harry felt it was his position to respond and he reached for the letter, opening it and reading aloud.

 

“Mr. Addison Carter

Head of Auror Affairs

 

Dear Mr. Carter,

 

I am writing to you both as a courtesy and because my actions may require your assistance at some point in the future.  As you know, Mr. Harry Potter is in a unique situation of being one of the main targets of Lord Voldemort’s actions.  Likewise, his closest friends, Mr. Ronald Weasley and Ms. Hermione Granger, have become targets as well, mainly due to their commitment to help protect and aid him in his struggles against the dark forces that we are battling at present.

 

As it is imperative that we maintain the safety of their lives, I am going to create a set of three adaptable portkeys, ones that I am going to request they keep on their person at all times.  These portkeys will have a modulating locator that I will tune to the various safe houses that the Ministry has scattered throughout the countryside.  Should they find themselves in a threatening situation and have no other option, they will activate their key and be transferred to one of the many safe houses.

 

I am well aware of the hesitance of using modulating portkeys in the Ministry, but I feel that the seriousness of the threats against these three more than warrants their use.  I would request your office maintain a vigilant surveillance on your safe houses so that should one of them activate their Portkey, the automatic lockdown feature could be disabled within a safe number of hours.

 

I thank you in advance for your cooperation in this matter.

 

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore”

 

Harry looked confused as he turned to Ron and Hermione, finally laying the letter on the desk before him.

 

Remus jumped in to explain.  “On top of the letter we found a note about a vault at Gringotts and that is where I went this morning.”

 

“I’m sorry, Professor, but I don’t understand.” Harry interrupted.

 

“Harry, a modulating locator on a Portkey can be very dangerous and is not something that many people can set properly.  Professor Dumbledore was one of the very few who knew how to do it correctly and he had safeguarded these portkeys by placing them in a vault at Gringotts until which time he was prepared to give them to the three of you.”

 

“What is a modu-whating locator?” Ron interjected.

 

“A Portkey with a modulating locator has the ability to send the person or persons using it to a somewhat random location each time it is activated.  The headmaster was setting them up to randomly transport all of you to a different safe house within the Ministry’s control each time it was used.  This way, no one would ever know where exactly you would be hiding and those same safe houses were set up to immediately lock down as soon as you arrived, placing an anti-apparition ward and several locator charms on the house.  Charms only the Aurors could track.”

 

Hermione, who up until now had been listening intently, began asking the pertinent questions, just like she always did. 

 

“So, I assume the portkeys are very small, can be worn discreetly and activated how exactly?”

 

Remus reached into his pocket and began unfolding a piece of green cloth on the desk.  Professor McGonagall continued the explanation. 

 

“Each is tuned to your own magical signature, something Professor Dumbledore had not done yet, but all you need do is tap the Portkey and say ‘Abeo’ and it is triggered within seconds.”

 

The cloth was now opened to reveal the three small badges and as Remus lifted one for them to see, it appeared as though it was a Gryffindor crest.

 

“It looks like a house pin.” Ron noted.  He reached over to touch it.  

 

“Ronald, No!”  Hermione cried.  Ron looked as though he had been burned as he scowled at Hermione.  

 

“Ron, you could go flying off to some remote location if that is already active and we wouldn’t know where you were.”  Hermione’s hand was pressed firmly on Ron’s arm, keeping it lowered safely away from the magic objects. 

 

“Well, then he shouldn’t have made them look like a bloody piece of jewelry!” Ron complained.

 

“It’s alright.  They aren’t active at the moment.” Remus added.

 

“Ronald, I imagine that was the point.”  Hermione continued.  “Make the Portkeys appear as a small lapel pin, something we could wear on our robes without question.  Anyone else could touch them and it would just appear as a regular decorative item, completely harmless because they are tuned to us, individually.”

 

Harry looked at Ron who was nodding his head, now understanding the reason for their appearance and purpose.

 

“So now Professor McGonagall and I are going to finish the tuning process with each of you and give you these to wear.  The letter will be forwarded to the Ministry along with a cover letter indicating our knowledge of these and our consent that Professor Dumbledore’s request be implemented.” Remus took a few steps back, holding one of the small crests in his hand.

 

“Harry, why don’t you come first.” Remus gestured for him to step toward him.  He pulled out his wand, uttering an incantation that Harry had never heard, then pressed the tip of the wand against Harry’s palm and tapped the small pin.

 

Watching Remus’ actions, Ron interrupted, “Um…Professor..I thought you said that only Dumbledore knew how to do this.”

 

“Yes, he set up the modulation process, that part took a lot of skill and knowledge, but me and several others, including Professor McGonagall, do know how to register your signatures and activate the Portkeys.”  As he finished a small flash of light billowed around the pin and he clipped it onto Harry’s shirt.

 

Harry stepped back, seemingly afraid to even look at the object, much less touch it.  “Mr. Potter, it is perfectly safe unless you utter the charm ‘Abeo’ and tap the pin.  You are encouraged to wear it at all times, even when you sleep.”

 

“Of course, you don’t need to take it into the shower, but, otherwise, as the Professor indicated, this should remain on your person.”  Remus was gesturing for Hermione to move toward him to continue with the next pin as he spoke.  “If you ever get into a situation where you are trapped, you can use this for a quick escape.  But, beware,” he continued after pointing his wand at Hermione’s palm and finished the spell, “once you arrive at a safe house, you may not be able to leave for a brief period afterwards.  The house is locked down immediately.”

 

“Professor,” Hermione interjected, “what if one of us is injured and we need to get out or get help quickly.”

 

“Ronald, if you please?” Remus called his last student over as Hermione and Harry stepped back to watch.

 

“Ms. Granger, your concerns are not without merit and the safe houses are equipped with healing kits, cauldrons and potion ingredients to help with any healing spells that you might need to perform.  The point, however, is that should you truly be in danger, even if injured and taken to St. Mungo’s, that would not prevent the Dark Lord or any of his followers from apparating on the spot to the hospital grounds.  Even with their increased security, you would still be at risk.”

 

This explanation seemed to be logical to Hermione and she nodded in agreement, looking down at the small pin now sitting comfortably on her robes.

 

“Well, now that we’ve finished with that, let’s go work on that spell you wanted to practice.”  Remus was tapping his foot, folding up the green cloth and shoving it into his pocket as the headmistress sat down and began writing the cover letter for the Portkeys.

 

“Professor, we found a good place to practice.  Follow me.”  Hermione started toward the door, the Professor in tow.  

 

Harry eyed Ron for a moment, both glancing at the pin on their cloaks and then turned to follow.

They all spent the entire afternoon and part of the evening, discussing options on how to destroy the item and they had finally agreed on a quite intense heating charm, one that would require some extra safety measures around the room before it could be performed.  So, they retired to get some dinner and decided to return the following morning to first put up the protection spells and then eliminate the horcrux.

 

Having missed dinner hour, they once again begged upon Dobby and his staff of kitchen elves to round them up something to eat and they headed back to the Common Room, dropping off Remus at the guest quarters.  Placing their food on the table on the side of the room, Ron pulled off his robes and draped them over the back of the chair as he had done a million times before, ready to make himself comfortable for the evening.  He had barely turned back to the group when Hermione’s threatening glare tore into him and he felt his stomach clench up as if he had just disobeyed his mother and was about to get the reprimand of his young life.

 

She marched over, grabbing his cloak, placing her hand directly behind the new adornment that was secured to it that afternoon and shoved it into Ronald’s face with a huff. 

 

“Forgetting something?” she stated more than asked, waiting for him to realize his mistake.

 

He did, of course, immediately comprehend the gravity of overlooking their now, potentially life-saving, magical device and he swallowed, gripping the robe and raising his eyebrows to her.

 

“Sorry.”  He moved the pin to his shirt collar and fell over onto the sofa, indicating his need for rest.  Hermione had already settled into a chair, grabbing a book from her rucksack and munching on apple slices as she started her studying vigil for the evening.

 

Harry and Ron worked on their dinner, or rather, snacks that were a replacement for dinner this evening.  Ron was just thinking how quiet it seemed and commented to Harry in a whisper, “Hermione’s gone a whole ten minutes without bugging us about our homework.  Will miracles never cease!”

 

“You _do_ have exams tomorrow.”  She never looked up, but made her point, still crunching on the apple slices.

 

“Knock on wood,” Ron muttered, just loud enough for her to glance in his direction.

 

“Excuse me?”  She closed her book, using her hand as a marker and whipped her head around to glare at Ron.

 

He quickly wiped his hand on the napkin, reached into his rucksack and produced his Potions book, all the while maintaining his ‘deer caught in the headlights’ expression.  He never looked at her, but opened his book and quickly paged forward to the spot he needed to review.  Hermione seemed satisfied and went back to her reading.

 

A short while later, the portrait door swung open for a group of fifth year girls that were all giddy with excitement over something.  Harry and Ron both looked up as they moved through the room, now noticing Ginny just steps behind them, carrying her rucksack and books.  She glanced over toward them, first walking to her usual sitting place by the fire, but as she saw the trio, she turned back as if to ascend the dormitory stairs.

 

The tension between Harry and Ginny still existed, but had decreased considerably over the past six months.  Harry’s decision that they break off their relationship had been difficult for them to adhere to.  They were both feeling a combination of pain and regret.  Their psyche constantly chafed by seeing each other day in and day out and not being able to show their feelings for one another.  They had slipped a few times, unable to completely stay away from each other, and most recently enjoyed a short snog in a nearby broom closet.  Harry was sure that this was the reason Ginny had veered off in the opposite direction.  However, Harry, both feeling a need to talk to her and also hoping for an explanation of the chatter, called her over.

 

“Hey, Gin!”  She stopped, looking back over her shoulder.

 

He crooked his index finger, motioning for her to come over.  As she moved closer, he finally asked, “What’s with all the giggles from the fifth years?”  She was still standing behind the sofa as Ron looked over the back of the furniture, appearing to want the same answer.

 

“They announced at dinner tonight that there will be another Yule Ball this Friday night.  I guess they thought with all the mounting tension about Death Eaters and Dark Marks, that we needed a distraction.”  Ginny said all of this rather matter-of-factly, without a smile or any animation in her expression.  Her eyes shifted to Harry, and he was sure of the question behind them.  She wanted him to ask her, it was apparent.  Harry stared back, but didn’t speak and after a few seconds, Ginny did a quick about-face.

 

“Well, goodnight,” she headed toward the steps.

 

A million scenarios flashed through Harry’s mind, each one weighing the pros and cons of asking Ginny to the ball and each being influenced by the ache in Harry’s chest.  In the end, his heart won out.

 

With a smile, he looked to Ron, trying to draw him visually toward Hermione before he bounded from his seat and ran after Ginny.

 

***

 

Ron took Harry’s cue and glanced over at Hermione when he felt the sofa shift as Harry got up.  Ron turned back to watch Harry grab Ginny’s arm before she reached the second step.  He observed them for a moment as Harry pulled her back down, taking her hand in his and speaking something to her quietly.  He was surprised to see her smile, a great big genuine smile, something he hadn’t noticed from his sister in weeks.  He was even more shocked when she embraced him a moment later and he placed a soft kiss on her forehead.  Ginny disappeared up the stairs as Harry returned, patting Ron on the shoulder and leaning down to tell him in confidence, “Well, I’ve got my date.  How about you?”  Then he stood back up and spoke with much more volume.  “Goodnight.”

 

“Goodnight, Harry.”  Hermione smiled back, drawn away from her text, but Ron was sure she never really lost her train of thought.  Ron sat there a bit stunned, hearing Harry’s statement play over and over in his head as he watched Hermione read.

 

Yes, he was smitten with the girl.  That was a fact.  On the ‘how much I fancy this girl’ scale of one to ten, Hermione ranked right at the top.  The difficulty was that Ron was so practiced at the game of ‘row and make-up’ that he had never ventured to study or even try the ‘dating game.’  This girl was completely under his skin and she could make or break his day with a single pout, a smile, a touch or the dreaded ‘look of disappointment.’  That was the worst.  Ron couldn’t stand when she gave him that look.  More than anything else, he didn’t want to disappoint her.  That was one of the reasons he was actually studying for exams and trying not to argue too much about it.  He wanted to do well.  He wanted her to be proud of him and that desire drove him forward in all things.

 

As he sat, pretending to read his book, he couldn’t help but notice how her blouse was one-button lower tonight and it hung open just enough to prove that it was disguising a beautiful set of feminine curves.  A few strands of brown curls had come untucked from their holding place and Ron was itching to pull them back behind her ear so that he could get an unobstructed view of her face.  Her delicate hands were tracing the words as she read and softly lifting the pages of her book as she moved through it with great speed.  How could she read so fast?  It was amazing to him and the fact that she comprehended everything so well with that speed impressed him even more.

 

There was going to be a Yule Ball and Ron’s thoughts flashed back to her words from fourth year and he knew that not asking her immediately could result in months of hurt feelings, jealousies and embarrassments, something that they couldn’t afford right now.  Yes, well, that was the logical explanation and it was easier to listen to than the tugging feeling coming from his heart that told him that his devotion to this girl should make him jump at the opportunity for a date.

 

He quickly tried to figure out a way he could get her alone.  She was curled up in a chair.  He didn’t want to make it too obvious what he was doing.  Looking down at his book, he scanned over the page, looking for any words that might appear particularly difficult and finally settled on a section that was a bit challenging.  Something that, although he did understand, he could bluff and convince Hermione that her help was needed.

 

“Um…Hermione?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Could you come here a minute, please.  This paragraph…” he pointed to it, hoping she would come over to look.  “Could you help explain this to me?”

 

She took the bait and was seated next to him within seconds, her book still clutched in her hand.  He calmly let her explain the information that he already understood, nodding and looking appreciative until she finished.  All during her explanation, he formulated his plan.  If she got back up to move back to her chair, he was going to grab her arm to restrain her and turn on the Weasley charm.  However, it was possible she would just stay on the sofa and he could subtly bring up the ball.

 

The latter happened and she reopened her book, still seated next to him, following his note of thanks.  Her knee was only a centimeter away from touching his and he casually let his hand rest on his thigh, preparing it for a possibly journey.  He started playing different scenarios over in his head, trying to determine the best route for his conversation to follow.  Romantic?  Short and sweet?  Friendly?  Well, of course, it would be friendly, they were best friends, but he also wanted to make sure that she understood that they were going together.  He finally summoned his courage, closed his book and turned to her.

 

“Hermione?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Will you put your book down for a minute?”

 

She seemed a bit perturbed, but folded the page back on the corner and closed the book, turning her head toward Ron.  He blinked, giving himself a moment to pull it together.

 

“Hermione, I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings like we had in fourth year.  You’re my best friend…and I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else.  So…will you go to the ball with me?”  There, he had said it and it actually came out sounding rather nice, not like the bumbling statements he usually blurted forth.

 

A smile crept across her face as she cocked her head slightly, something Ron was sure she only did for him.  Then came the tempting biting of the lip.  He couldn’t stand it when she did that.  It was always when she had to really consider something, to determine its value or its worth.  And it drove Ron nuts.  He wanted to just kiss that lower lip right out from under her teeth.

 

“Really?  You want to go with me?” she asked, her smile still infusing the room with warmth.

 

His hand navigated its way across their thighs and found its match, resting atop her book.

 

“Well, yeah, of course.  So, will you go with me?” he asked again.  Gee whiz, he should get a prize, a gold medal or something for managing to ask the question twice in a one minute time frame.  That’s a new record in the annals of seventeen year old male history, wasn’t it?

 

“I’d love to.” The smile stayed on her face, but hid beneath her closed lips as she looked back down at her lap and their joined hands, almost forgetting about the precious book awaiting her attention.

 

“Great!  Well, I think I’m going to hit the racks.  Better get some sleep so I’ll be good and rested for that exam tomorrow.”  Feeling triumphant and just going with his emotions, he lifted her hand and kissed it before he stood up.  Hermione stared at the back of her hand, as if some kind of mark would show up to prove that his lips had actually been there.  Her attention only pulled away when Ron grabbed his rucksack and headed off to the dormitory.

 

***

 

Suddenly Hermione felt awash with cheerfulness, wanting to join that group of fifth year girls with giddy excitement.  She had an overwhelming urge to tell someone that she had a date to the ball.  Without thinking, she packed up her book and the next thing you know, she was in her dorm room, readying herself for bed, but just waiting for her two gossipy roommates to bring up the subject.

 

It didn’t take long before Lavender and Parvati were exchanging rumors of all the possible pairings for the ball and contemplating who they were going to ask, if and when they weren’t asked ahead of time.  Hermione shook her head.  Those ladies always had a plan when it came to the social events in their lives.  Hermione was still smiling as she took off her dressing gown and prepared to climb under the blanket.  Then she heard the discussion change.

 

“Well, I really think Seamus is going to ask me.”  Lavender was innocently combing her hair but Hermione was sure she was contemplating her next move.

 

“And if he doesn’t, who is Plan B going to be?” Parvati was leading the attack.

 

“Well, personally, I think Ron Weasley would make a lovely date.”

 

“Hmm.  Really?  Well, he has grown a lot this summer and he does look pretty fit.  I would have to agree, however, I think I’d rather go after Harry.”

 

Hermione’s better judgment told her to keep quiet, but the uncontainable excitement of Ron’s invitation led her to jump in.  “Actually, ladies, I do believe that both Ron and Harry already have dates.”

 

“Oh, really?” Lavender looked dejected at the prospect of loosing Plan B.

 

“Who?” Parvati immediately countered.  “Who are they going with?”

 

Hermione shrugged, but her smile was too obvious and Parvati moved closer.  “Hermione.  You know.  Now, who are Ron and Harry going with?”  Lavender had finished her nightly combing ritual and was climbing up on to the foot of Hermione’s bed.  “Yeah, I didn’t know that Ron fancied anyone in particular.  So, out with it!”

 

She played it safe, bringing up Harry first.  “Well, I do believe that Harry asked Ginny this evening down in the Common Room.”

 

Parvati cried out, “What?  I thought they had broken up?  Are you sure?”

 

“Parvati, now you know how close they were last spring and even though they may have ‘officially’ broken up, they’re still very close friends.”  Hermione wondered why she was bothering to defend Harry’s relationship.  It really wasn’t anyone’s business, but she somehow felt like she was obligated to say something.

 

“Okay, okay.  So, what about Ron?” Lavender seemed anxious to move on to her date prospectus for the ball.  Hermione ventured to guess that if Ron was truly taken, then Lavender would have to reshuffle her second and third choices.  In fact, she could already see Lavender’s absent expression, meaning she was day dreaming about other potential suitors.

 

“He’s going with me.”

 

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Lavender asked, appearing to come out of her stupor.

 

“I said, Ron asked me to the ball.”  There, it was out.  Hermione felt good to tell someone.  Yes, plain Hermione Jane Granger, had a date for the ball and the best part of it, the other girls thought that he was cute and they wanted him as much as she did, but he was all hers.

 

“Oh, well, that’s great, Hermione.  I’m sure you’ll have a lovely time.” Parvati’s response seemed more a reason to cover the lingering stillness in the air as Lavender looked shocked by her confession.  Soon, the roommates had returned to their own beds and Hermione closed her curtains and settled in, suddenly feeling very warm on this cold December night.

 


	2. Chapter 2 - Abeo

 

The next morning they met Remus as promised and started casting various protection spells around the Room of Requirements.  Hermione was doing some final reading about the heating spell they were going to use and Ron and Harry were moving around the room, placing protection charms on all the walls.  As Ron flicked his wand at one particular bookcase, he failed to notice the mirror tucked between the books and the shield reflected and bounced back, hitting him squarely in the chest and knocking him to the floor.

 

“Ronald!  Are you alright” she was on her knees in front of him in a flash, Harry and Remus above her.  Ron sat rather dazed, shaking his head to clear the double vision and tingling sensation that was traveling down his legs.

 

“Um…well, there are three of you, but other than that…” he laid back, the dizziness overtaking him.

 

Remus crouched down, shaking his head and smiling.  “Well, that’s the hard way to learn about the seriousness of rebounding protection charms.”

 

Hermione seemed very concerned.  “Should we take him to the hospital wing?  Double vision can’t be a good sign.”  

 

Her emotions seemed to get the best of her and she blurted out, “Honestly, Ronald, if you end up in the hospital wing on Friday night, I’m going to kill you!”

 

Harry and Remus looked to each other, the elder somewhat confused while Harry had a smile creeping across his face as he mouthed to his mentor “Yule Ball.”  Remus seemed to understand and smiled, pointing his wand at Ronald, “Ennervate.”  

 

“Whoa.  I wasn’t stunned, so why did you use that?”  Ron continued blinking rapidly as if it would clear his vision.

 

“It helps to counteract the dizziness.  Is your vision improving?” Remus was standing in front of Ron holding up his first two fingers.  “How many fingers do you see?”

 

“Um…two?”

 

“Well, that’s an improvement.  Just sit down over here for a minute.”  Harry took Ron’s arm and the two men lifted him up and helped him to the nearby sofa.  Hermione sat next to him, her hand resting reassuredly on his arm.  “Are you sure he doesn’t need to see Madam Pomfrey?” her concern evident.

 

“Hermione, I’ll be fine.  Just let me sit for a few minutes.”  

 

  *******   

 

With the horcrux destroyed, the next two days passed quickly, mainly due to the exam schedule.  For once, the boys didn’t argue with Hermione about homework each night and they all settled in to quiz each other and read every evening.  However, Ron noticed a subtle change in Hermione’s behavior.  She was making a point of sitting next to him on the sofa and during their meals and he was sure he had caught her smiling at him a few times when he had paused from reading to rest his eyes.

 

Not to say that he wasn’t watching her, too.  When his thoughts weren’t full of facts and procedures for an exam, they were daydreaming about what was to come.  He played out many different variations of the Yule Ball in his mind.  How he was going to offer his arm, walk her in, dance with her.  How they would talk light heartedly and laugh.  How she would look, all soft and warm and ready to be kissed.  He had to stop himself several times and shake that kissing image out of his head when he noticed his body started to react in a rather uncomfortable and noticeable way.  Twice he had to dash off to his room to ‘get something he forgot’ or grab a quick shower, but it was all he could do to keep himself in check.

 

Thursday night, after finishing their last exam, Ron challenged Harry to a game of chess and they set up in their usual spot.  The girls came down from their rooms and immediately split off, each going to their respective partners.  Ginny pulled up a chair next to Harry and gave him advice and encouragement during the game.  Heaven knew he needed it as Ron had yet to loose a game against Harry.

 

In very un-Hermione-esk fashion, Ron’s date took a seat beside him, no book in sight and curled up so that her arm was resting against his side.  Ron’s heart skipped a beat when she nestled in and he was afraid to look at her, instead trying his best to focus on the chessboard.  If he had known asking Hermione to the ball would result in her giving him all this attention, he would have done it much sooner.  She was warm and soft and he wanted to wrap his arms around her, but his insecurities kept him at bay.

 

After about fifteen minutes, it became obvious that Ginny’s help was more of a distraction to Harry than it was intended.  Likewise, Ron was just starting to get into his game and had finally adjusted to the feel of Hermione against him when she had to throw him off by running her hand over his back.  Her little circular caresses took over his brain and his eyes shifted up to Harry who was having the same problem due to Ginny’s hand on his leg and her lips very close to Harry’s ear.  The two men seemed to exchange an unspoken agreement that this game was done and they had other things to attend to.  Harry made the first move and with a big yawn, he pulled back from the board.  

 

“I’m getting no where on this.  I think I’ll just call it quits, mate.  You’re just too good.”  He stood up, stretching.  “We’ve got about thirty minutes before curfew.  I think I’ll get some fresh air.” 

 

He reached over, offering his hand to Ginny.  “Would you care to join me?”  She giggled and jump up, taking his hand.  “Of course!”

 

“We’ll be back shortly, mate.”  Harry winked at Ron, who raised his eyebrows a bit and they were out the portrait hole in a flash.  Ron had grown accustomed to the fact that Ginny and Harry were an item, but Harry’s wink gave him a mental picture of his baby sister snogging his best friend and those images continued to disturb him.  He felt very protective of Ginny, but he also loved Harry and he trusted him with Ginny, at least to a point.  The sensation of Hermione’s head now resting on his shoulder snapped him out of his thoughts.  He settled back into the sofa a bit more and Hermione adjusted to accommodate their new arrangement and replaced her head in its intended spot.  Taking a quick survey of the room, Ron discovered it was almost empty, a few younger students still sitting behind them.

 

Enjoying the feel of her resting against him, Ron sat as still as possible, afraid that if he moved he’d loose this wonderful warm sensation that was flowing through his body.  The only discernable sound was the steady in and out of Hermione’s breathing and the resonating thump in Ron’s throat as he tried to swallow a pocket of air the size of a Quaffle.  He tempted fate by allowing his focus to move into the area of his peripheral vision and was rewarded by the image of Hermione’s chest rising and falling as she relaxed beside him.  He didn’t want to remove his eyes from this sight, but something told him it was wrong to keep glaring at her like that and he pulled his eyes forward again, now determined to break the stifling stillness between them.

 

“Are you tired?”

 

“Mmmm.  No, just relaxed,” she spoke in an almost dreamlike quality.

 

“Yeah, well…we can finally relax now that exams are done.”  He thought that sounded like a rather innocent, middle of the road comment.  He was confident it would lead them into a safe discussion about school, but he was surprised with her return comment.

 

“I’m proud of you, Ron.”

 

“Proud of me?  For what?”  His brows creased in confusion as he tried to discern what he had done to warrant this praise.

 

“You worked really hard getting ready for these exams.  Especially since we missed a good portion of the classes, but I bet you did really well.”

 

“Well, we couldn’t have done it without your help.  The top witch of Hogwarts.  We’re just really lucky to have you for a best friend.”

 

Ron almost tried to rewind his latest statement when he felt her pull away, sitting up straight again.  Not sure what had caused her retreat, he rethought his last statement, looking for signs of rudeness or something hurtful.

 

“Is that _all_ I am?” she asked, turning to face him, her hands falling into her lap.

 

He finally shifted his body so that he could look into her eyes.  

 

“What do you mean?”  Although he knew perfectly well what she meant, but he wasn’t prepared to enter this discussion at the moment.  So, playing dumb seemed like the only alternative.

 

Her lips parted, another thought on her breath, but she closed them again, nodding her head and closing her eyes.

 

“Nothing.”  She started to get up, but Ron grabbed her arm, pulling her back.  This time he spoke, “No, tell me.”

 

She was looking down, her fingers fidgeting with the bottom hem of her jumper.  “Are you taking me to the ball as your best friend?”

 

“Well, you _are_ my best friend.”  He stopped, noting Hermione’s lower lip sliding between her teeth again.  She still wouldn’t look at him and he knew she wanted to hear more.  His nerves had been holding him back, preventing him from uttering anything else, anything that would indicate there was more to their relationship than just friendship.  But, it was her look of disappointment that gnawed at him, he couldn’t stand it and had to say something to belie her feelings of rejection.

 

With every ounce of Gryffindor courage he could muster, he reached for her hand, lacing his fingers with hers and used his other to lift her chin so that she would look at him.  When their eyes met, all logical thought flew out the window and he felt that he couldn’t put together a coherent sentence if his life depended on it.  Instead, his hand moved tenderly across her cheek, his thumb stroking the edge of her jaw as it traveled back down and a smile slowly moved across his face.

 

She smiled back, conveying in her eyes that she had understood the essence of his message.  His hand spoke louder than his words as he began to stare at her lips.  They were pink and soft and so inviting.  He wanted to kiss her.  With every breath he felt his chest pull closer to her.  Her head was tilting to the side as her eyes also shifted between his and the lips that were approaching.  They were there, at the point of no return and Ron felt his eyes begin to close, expecting to feel her lips on his at any second.

 

The Irish brogue of Seamus Finnigan cut through the air like a knife as he tumbled through the portrait hole, Dean, Lavender and Parvati in tow.  Hermione jumped from the sofa, grabbing her books and gave Ron a curt “Goodnight.”  She was gone up the stairs before Ron could grieve over what he had almost lost. 

 

***

 

Twenty minutes later, Seamus walked into the boy’s dorm, whistling as he toe’d off his shoes.  His head was met with a large pillow thrown from across the room with enough force that he toppled over onto his bed.  When he sat back up, he could easily recognize his assailant by the sour expression on his face.

 

“You git,” Ron didn’t raise his voice, but got his point across the same.  Harry was watching in amusement at the scene playing out before him.

 

Seamus seemed confused.  “What did I do?”  

 

Ron marched over and Seamus put his hands up to protect himself, sure he was about to be pummeled, but Ron simply took back his pillow, marching back to his bed.  He punched it once and crashed down onto his four poster with the pillow behind his back.  “Nothing.”

 

“Then what’s with the pillow?” Seamus argued back.

 

Harry cut in to explain.  “I think you might have interrupted something when you came in downstairs.”  Ron, having told Harry of his near encounter, glared at him. 

 

“Shut up, Harry!”  Ron rolled over onto his side, placing his back to his friends.

 

“What?” gaped Seamus, not realizing the mortal danger he was putting himself in as he sniggered.  “You mean with Glacier Granger, the frigid witch of the north?”

 

Harry muttered, “Oh, Shite” under his breath as Ron sprang from his bed, Seamus’s head now sprouting a big red and white target symbol as Ron’s fist came barreling at it.  Before Harry could get between them, Seamus’ body connected with the floor on the opposite side of his bed, after doing a very acrobatic summersault over the mattress.

 

“Whoa, Ron!”  Harry tackled him onto the bed, waving to Dean for help and Neville went to check on Seamus as Ron ranted.

 

“You filthy mouthed bastard!  Don’t you ever talk about her that way!!  I’m going to rip your bloody head off!!”  The sheer physical mass of Ron’s body easily outweighed the two trying to subdue him.  Harry quickly saw things getting out of hand and “accio wand” produced an instant intermediary as he placed a body bind on Ron.  Ron suddenly found himself unable to move on the bed and Harry spun around on Seamus now getting off the floor, holding a hand against his bloodied nose.

 

“YOU!  Apologize!” Harry’s wand pointed directly at Seamus’ chest as the other boys watched in stunned silence.

 

Seamus’ free hand whipped up in front of him, as if to halt the next words about to exit Harry’s mouth.  A very nasally “I’M SORRY!  Sorry!” came out from the battered face.

 

“What the HELL is wrong with you?!  You know she is our friend and you still talk about her like that in front of us?  You know, I could just release Ron right now and let him finish you off.”  Seamus was shaking his head, a panicked expression in his eyes.  Harry was looking back and forth between Seamus and Ron, who had stopped struggling and was staring at Seamus with contempt, still muttering curse words under his breath.  An idea struck Harry and he turned back to a beet red Ron.  “I’m going to release you now.”

 

“NO!  NO!  Please!” Seamus was crying through the blood.

 

“If you’ll stay calm, I’ll release you.  Do you agree?” Harry asked Ron who, panting in anger, glanced back at Seamus, now holding a towel to his face, thanks to Neville.  Ron took a deep breath and nodded his head and with a flick of his wrist, Ron was released and slowly sat up on the bed.

 

Harry, still standing between the two, just in case, turned to his roommate. “Neville, will you go and see if there are any girls in the Common Room and if so, ask one of them to get Hermione for me and send her up here.”

 

“Yeah, sure.”  Neville did as instructed.

 

A few minutes later, minutes spent in strained silence, the door opened to the boys’ dormitory and Neville peaked his head in, checking that all was clear before he opened it wider, a befuddled looking Hermione standing in the hallway outside.

 

“Harry?  Is something wrong?  Neville said you needed to see me,” she asked, stepping into the room, dressed in her pajamas and dressing gown, and coming to a sudden halt when she saw the large amount of blood on the towel in Seamus’ lap.

 

“Oh!  What happened?” she started to approach Seamus, obviously with the intention of giving first aid.  Harry knew that she was convinced that was her reason for being here, but he stepped in front of her.

 

“Hermione.  Wait.  Wait!”  He raised a hand, his wand now safely tucked away.  She glanced around the room at the rest of the men. Dean was standing by his bed, his hand resting over his face as if to hide the look of disgust and Ron sitting on his four-poster, arms crossed, but holding a towel with ice around his fist.  Harry drew her attention back to him.

 

“Hermione.  Seamus has something to say to you.”  Harry stepped to the side giving Seamus a clear path to his best friend.

 

“Um, Okay?” she replied, looking unsure about her role in this scene.

 

Harry noticed Seamus’ attention, initially on Hermione, draw back to the left when Ron shifted on the bed, clearly not pleased with the speed of which this encounter was taking.  He flinched slightly before taking a step forward to Hermione and dropped the towel from his face.  Hermione sucked in a breath, seeing the bruised and apparently broken nose of her classmate and raised a hand over her mouth.  Harry raised his hand to her, again halting what he knew would be a rant about the condition she had found them in.

 

“Hermione.  I…I said something about you tonight that was cruel and totally unfair and I want to apologize to you,” his nasal tone masking the pain in his voice.  His eyes were watering and Harry was sure it wasn’t due to any sadness or remorse, but the sheer pain of Ron’s impact.

 

Hermione shifted a bit, dropping her hand, still appearing confused.

 

“Um…Okay.”  She looked at Harry who stood guard as Ron finally spoke up.

 

“It didn’t sound very genuine to me.”  Hermione looked to Ron and Harry could see his angered face softening as their eyes met.  Ron’s brows were furrowing into an expression of sadness and concern and Hermione immediately looked back to Seamus as if waiting to hear more to help explain all of this.

 

“Okay!  I’m sorry,” Seamus said to Ron who had slid toward the edge of the bed.  Harry knew his best mate was about to help Seamus make a proper apology, but he eyed him with a cautious glare. Thankfully, Ron waited, his legs swung over the side as he prompted their roommate.

 

“Not to me, you git, to her!”

 

With a slight sniff, Seamus continued.  “Look, Hermione, I have to admit that I don’t think of you as a fun-loving kind of girl.  You always seem rather cold and bookish and well, I called you a name before that was derogatory and…well…I don’t know why something so mean came out of my mouth and I’m really sorry I said it and not just because Ron used my head as a punching bag.”  He looked to Dean and Harry knew he was hoping for back up.  However, Dean was giving him this ‘well, go on, you made your bed, now sleep in it’ look of disgust and Seamus continued, looking back to Hermione.

 

“I will make it up to you.  I promise.”

 

“Satisfied?”  Harry turned back to Ron who nodded his head.  Now that the situation seemed diffused, he set to work in repairing the damage, asking Seamus if he wanted to see Madam Pomfrey, to which he adamantly refused.  Still appearing unsure about the whole situation, Hermione offered to use a healing charm on Seamus’ nose which luckily fixed the break.  Harry noticed Ron give a small smirk of delight when Seamus yelped in pain as his nose moved back into position.  Then she moved to Ron and removed the ice to examine his hand.  

 

Harry ushered everyone to their beds, realizing that Ron might want to have a semi-private word with Hermione before she left.  Harry closed his curtains, giving his friends some privacy.

 

***

 

After noting his swollen knuckles, she looked up at him and Ron stared back, trying to read her expression.  At first he thought it was disappointment that he had hit Seamus, but her eyes softened. 

 

Ron whispered “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t stand to have him say that about you.”

 

She nodded her head, waving her wand over Ron’s hand, instantly relieving the pain.

 

“Thanks,” he offered, reaching over to grasp her hand.  He rubbed his thumb gently over the top of her wrist, gazing back at this girl whom he adored.  Once again, Ron felt drawn to her and made the slightest move to close the distance when Hermione stepped back.

 

“I’ve got to get to bed.”

 

Ron was disappointed, but stood up and escorted her to the door, placing his large hand gently on her lower back as he opened the door for her.  She stepped outside into the hallway, but turned quickly around saying “Goodnight” loud enough that most of the his dorm mates would hear, but then she reduced her volume, ensuring her final words would only make it to Ron’s ears.

 

“Thank you, Ronald.” She rose up on her toes and placed a soft kiss on his cheek before shuffling down the stairs.

 

   *******   

The excitement around the school was apparent the next day with everyone anticipating the big event that evening.  Seamus made an extra effort to be nice to Hermione whenever he saw her during the day.  He held the door open for her, offered her the last scone on the plate at breakfast and offered to help her load her things the next day when they were going to be heading home for the holiday.  Ron seemed satisfied in his efforts and the tension lifted from the air before noon.

 

Hermione and Ginny disappeared for a little while, Harry thought to the library, leaving him and Ron to play a couple games of chess before it was time to get ready for the ball.  They never saw the girls return, but assumed they had been in their dorms and missed them.

 

Around six o’clock, the boys had showered, shaved and put on their best dress robes.  Harry was still fighting with his hair, unable to tame it in the least.

 

Ron chuckled.  “Give it up, Harry.”

 

They headed down to the Common Room and waited for the girls.  They were met by several other classmates, all milling around the common room.  Most of the boys looked nervous, constantly adjusting their robes and pacing the floor.  A couple of fifth year girls that Ron and Harry didn’t really know very well came skipping down the steps to meet their dates who quickly escorted them out the portrait hole.  Ron appeared much more nervous than Harry who was watching his friend fidget with the cuffs on his shirt as his eyes kept roving up the girls dormitory steps.

 

“So, finally got a date with Hermione, huh?”

 

“Well, I’m not sure if you’d call this a date.”  It was very hush-hush.

 

“Of course it is!”

 

“She doesn’t think so.”

 

“Why do you say that?”

 

“Look, we’re just going as best friends, okay?  Just drop it.”

 

“Fine. Fine.”  Harry didn’t want to taint the evening or the excellent mood he was currently in.

 

Their eyes shifted up as they heard the tapping noise on the steps and Ginny appeared, immediately meeting Harry’s eyes and smiling brightly.  Her lavender robes clung to all her curves in the right spots and Harry was delighted as his eyes made their way from her ankles, wrapped in little sparkly straps, to her calves and finally to the tops of her thighs that were appearing below her flowy skirt.  Harry realized that Ron was about to scold him for his stares, but Hermione’s appearance luckily drew his attention away.

 

***

 

Hermione was so busy watching her step that almost didn’t notice the look on Ron’s face that clearly showed that he was going to have to scoop his eyeballs off the rug and push them back into their sockets.  Ron gulped as she appeared in a form fitting red satin dress that was hugging her body.  Hermione recognized his surprise, as if looking at some girl he wasn’t sure he knew.  She blushed when she considered what he might be thinking.

 

She had her hair in a soft twist with ringlets falling around her face and she was proudly displaying cleavage.  Ron’s eyes floated down to her chest with a ‘Oh, my god!’ expression and she knew that her dress was just low enough to see the break between his two favorite feminine features.  

 

Hermione’s smile grew as she saw Ron’s mouth fall open and she made a point of taking her time down the stairs, walking with as much grace and sensuality as she could manage.  She had been very hesitant to purchase this dress, but all the shop ladies and Ginny claimed she was a knock out in it and had convinced her.  She praised them over and over in her head seeing Ron’s look of awe.  _We’re just going as friends_.  She kept repeating that phrase to herself, but truthfully, she wanted to knock Ron’s socks off.  Those last two times where they almost kissed were on her mind and she thought this might just push him over the edge.

 

She intentionally swayed her hips a bit as she reached the common room floor and approached Ron, reaching up to push his mouth shut.  She smiled and decided to speak first being as Ron looked as if he’d become completely mute.

 

“So, I guess you like the dress?”  She turned around in front of him displaying the slit up the back of the skirt that showed even more thigh than Ginny’s dress.

 

He nodded, as if still trying to convince his throat to make sounds.  “Er…yeah.  I mean, wow.”

 

“You look very handsome yourself tonight, Ronald.”  She made a point of eyeing him up from head to toe and noticed the immediate flush on Ron’s ears.  Harry and Ginny, who had been chatting, turned to encourage them all to get moving and Harry offered an arm to Ginny as they stepped into the hallway.  Ron mimicked the gesture, offering his to Hermione who smiled and wrapped her hand around the crook of his elbow.

 

***

 

Soon they were in the Great Hall, but with the decorations and lights, it didn’t look anything like the place that they had breakfast every morning.  It was warm and beautiful, festive and romantic.  Most students were coupled up, but a few had come stag and were standing around on the edges of the room, people watching.  A huge banquet table was set up at the end of the room with many splendid types of finger foods, desserts and a waterfall with punch coming out of it.  An ice sculpture of a Christmas tree, complete with magical lights adorned the center of the table.

 

Neville and Luna were already sitting at a table and waved them over to join them.  Luna was typical in her tropical looking attire, very eccentric and yet so very Luna.  It didn’t take long before the party was in full swing with everyone enjoying the food and talking.  Ron was sharing a story about him and Ginny as children that had everyone at the table in hysterics.  They were all laughing so hard they almost didn’t realize a band had started playing.  Suddenly Ginny jumped up.

 

“Oh, I love this song!  Come on, Harry, let’s dance!”  She pulled at his hand and he shrugged to his friends and allowed her to pull him to the dance floor.  Ron watched his sister and Harry for a few minutes, sipping his punch and generally taking in the atmosphere.  He wasn’t much of a dancer and was afraid of looking at Hermione who he was sure would expect him to join Harry on the dance floor.

 

Just then, a seventh year Hufflepuff boy approached Hermione from the other side of the table, drawing Ron’s attention back to the group.

 

“Excuse me, may I have this dance?”  He offered his hand and Hermione glanced over at Ron, waiting for his opinion.  “Do you mind?” she asked Ron.

 

“Um..no, go ahead.”  _We’re just friends, right?  It’s not my place to tell her who she can dance with.  She’s not my girl, just my friend._   Ron adjusted his seat and tried to look interested in the topic of conversation that Luna was having with Neville, but his eyes kept drifting back to Hermione on the dance floor.  She was smiling and spinning around to the heavy beat.  So far, this was alright.  They were dancing, but not touching.  Ron figured he could deal with her dancing with other blokes as long as no touching were involved.  That all changed in an instant when the music shifted to a much slower beat.  He watched as the Hufflepuff boy raised his arms, inviting Hermione to continue.  She stepped forward, politely placing her one hand on his shoulder and clasping his other.  They were close and Ron sensed his heart beat increase and kept repeating, _we’re just friends, she’s not my girl, she can dance with whomever she wants._

 

Ron caught sight of Harry and Ginny, standing much closer, enjoying the slower music as they swayed to the beat.  Harry must have felt Ron’s unease when he found Hermione on the dance floor because he immediately searched out Ron’s eyes.  That brief moment relayed so much of Ron’s repressed jealousy and painful want before he shifted his gaze back to the lovely girl in the red satin dress.  Hermione’s partner drew her closer, pressing them together as his hand slid a bit lower on her back waist.  Ron shifted uncomfortably in his seat, one fist clenched on his lap as he concentrated on the exact location of the man’s fingertips.  Should they stray even one centimeter beyond his acceptable boundaries, Ron would be forced to intercede.

 

The men’s visual exchange must have spoke volumes because Harry spoke to Ginny, gesturing toward him.  Even with Ron’s focus firmly placed on his heart’s intruder, he had picked up on Harry’s movement and then wondered at Ginny’s lip movement, wanting to share in her plan.

 

Ginny smiled at Harry, who winked back.  Ron watched them twirl toward Hermione with a casual flirtatiousness that nearly made him laugh if not for the weight of his overbearing jealousies pressing down on him.  Ron wanted to embrace his best mate in thanks when he watched him tap the young man on the back and offer to switch partners.  The halting gestures that followed indicated the young man’s reluctance to separate, but with a charm he often failed to acknowledge, Ginny drew the man away.  She smiled softly, first at her partner, then at her brother who returned his thanks in kind.  Harry was now dancing at a safer distance with Hermione and Ginny appeared engaged in idle chit-chat with the Hufflepuff boy who seemed must less interested in close contact with his red-headed sister.

 

As the tempo increased, so did the number of partners on the parquet floor, Luna and Neville joining in to the thumping beat.  The group of gyrating teens kept waving for Ron to join them in melodic abandon until finally after a couple of minutes, he stepped onto the floor.  The nervousness he had been experiencing dissipated as he discovered that no one was paying very much attention to anyone’s dancing abilities.  In fact, most had their eyes closed or were spinning around or jumping so much they were oblivious to anyone else around them.  The heavy beat pulsed through their bodies for two more songs until everyone was thoroughly exhausted and headed back to find more to drink.  Ron ensured their proximity by holding the chair for Hermione to sit and purposefully placing his seat against hers.

 

Lively conversation filled the room for another thirty or forty minutes before the music once again beckoned to those so inclined, urging young love to flourish on the dance floor.  Ron noticed that the candle flames diminished, only the glow of the twinkle lights illuminating the room.  The hands on the clock pushed ten, proding those who had procrastinated to make their move before it reached the midnight mark.  

 

Ron found himself unable to look away from her lovely form.  Even as he engaged in conversation with those around him, the glow of that red satin constantly drew him back.  He chided himself for not asking her to the ball during fourth year, for this night brought him such joy that he felt jilted at the concept of having not experienced it before.  Her bright, genuine smile often accompanied a soft hand placed on his arm or back, adding gesture to a statement or story.  Those brief periods of contact were enough to send Ron’s stomach flipping.  He started to feel rather warm and reached up to loosen his robes and tie at the neck.

 

“Do you want to step out and get some fresh air?” Hermione asked, noting Ron’s discomfort.

 

“Yeah, sure.”

 

They excused themselves and stepped out to the garden that ran along side the Great Hall.  The stone walkway had been charmed with heat to melt the snow, but the December air held a firm grip on the temperature as they strode down the pathway.  Hermione approached the retaining wall, her eyes drawn up to the winter solstice sky.  Half of a moon provided gentle illumination as Ron took his place beside her and they stood in silence for a moment.

 

“So, are you having a good time?” he finally asked.

 

“Oh, yes.  I’m having a great time, Ron.  What about you?”

 

“Yeah, yeah.”  He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts, wishing to express the incredible glee he was feeling at having her on his arm.  “I’m glad you agreed to come with me.”

 

Hermione’s head snapped around.  “Well, who else would I go with, Ron?”  Her eyes held an innocence that, had Ron been paying attention, expressed her thanks to some prayer offered long ago.

 

“I think there’s a certain Seventh Year Hufflepuff who would be interested.”  Ron tried to keep his tone light so as not to allude to his obvious jealous streak.

 

“And that bothers you?”

 

“Hey, there you are!” called out Ginny from the doorway.  Skipping over to join them, she smiled, taking in a big breath of fresh air.  “Oh, it’s lovely out here, isn’t it?  It smells like pine.”  Standing by Hermione’s side, Ginny began admiring the scenery, apparently oblivious to the fact that she was interrupting anything.

 

Ron’s eyes were glued to Hermione’s as he helped the conversation along.  “Yeah, and the view is wonderful.”  Ron’s vision slipped, just for a second, down Hermione’s form, but quickly sprang back up and was surprisingly met by her return gaze.  Ron was sure he noticed Hermione’s cheeks change color, but she reached up, wrapping her arms around herself and shivered, looking back out over the hill.

 

“Are you cold?  Do you want to go in?”

 

She shook her head, but leaned a bit closer to him and he got the distinct impression that she was hoping he would offer his own warmth before they had to retreat back into the building.

 

Ginny, however, responded to Ron’s comment and spun around.  “It is a little cool out here.  I think I’ll head back in.  Are you two coming?”

 

Hermione smiled warmly and Ron was sure he noticed her wink at his sister.  “No, I’m going to stay for a few more minutes.  Why don’t you go check on Harry.”

 

Ron felt like he was witnessing some ancient ritual of the ‘Girls Only’ club as Ginny gave Hermione a odd grin and then glanced expectantly at Ron.  “Okay.  Well, I’ll see you in a few.”  She made a quick retreat through the French doors, leaving the two alone again.

 

Hermione took a small step toward him and rested her back against his chest as she looked back up at the heavens.  Ron froze for a second, not sure of how to respond, but somehow his instincts kicked in and he moved his hands up to her shoulders.  The wonderful smell of her hair filled his head with images of Christmas, orange and cinnamon.  It went with the scents of the season.  Without moving his head, his eyes took in the gentle slope of her neck and the way her hair was twisted up and held securely on the back of her head.  Ron wondered how she was keeping it up there when he finally willed his hands to move and they slid down her arms.  Her skin was very soft and very cool.

 

“You know, Orion is the first constellation I ever learned how to find.  Do you know the story of Orion?” she asked.  Ron slid his hands back up her arms, the tips of his fingers grazing the sides of her neck.  He really didn’t care about the constellation, but if she was going to stay like this beside him, he was willing to let her continue for as long as she liked.  “No.”

 

She continued, “according to Greek mythology Orion died being stung by a scorpion. He is positioned in the sky so that he sets in the west while his slayer, the Scorpion rises to the east.”  She pressed back against him a bit more.

 

He didn’t want to leave this spot, all of her soft curves pressing against him.  She seemed to fit against him like a piece of the jigsaw puzzle that had been missing from his life and had finally been found.  She completed his life’s picture.  There were scenes of his childhood, his school years, friends, family, joy and laughter, sorrow and tears.  Even scenes of death and chaos, but somewhere near his heart, a piece had always been missing and here she was.  How he longed to tell her this, to express his gratitude at having her in his life, his plans for a future that inescapably included this achingly lovely creature.  Only her shivers brought him out of his thoughts and he decided they had better go back inside.  He didn’t want to be responsible for her being ill over the holiday.  After all, he had hopes for some time together in the upcoming weeks.

 

 “Let’s head back in and see what’s going on, okay?”  

 

Within a minute they were back at their table and about to sit down when the music changed again.  It was full and melodic.  Ron recognized the tune, it was one of his mother’s favorites, but it also spoke to his desires and his fears.  Before Hermione could sit, Ron made his move and reached for her hand.

 

“Would you dance with me?”

 

“Of course, I’d love to.”  Ron steered her out to the open floor that was reflecting the thousands of lights dancing about it.  Five other couples were already swaying to the music.  He took a gentlemanly stance, offering his hand and arm.  Hermione smile and accepted, stepping up to meet him.  The lyrics of the song invaded their ears as he led her in a gentle pattern.

  _You give your hand to me_

_and then you say hello,_

_And I can hardly speak,_

_my heart is beating so,_

_And anyone can tell,_

_you think you know me well,_

_Well, you don’t know me._

 

_No, you don’t know the one,_

_Who dreams of you at night,_

_and longs to kiss your lips,_

_and longs to hold you tight._

_I’m just a friend,_

_that’s all I’ve ever been_

_'cause you don’t know me._

Whether it was the music, the lyrics, the lights, the wonderful smell of the girl in his arms or her incredible warmth, something stirred within Ron and he felt the moment was right.  The music started to swell and the emotion of the moment overtook Ron and he used the hand on Hermione’s waist to pull her toward him.  She slid under his chin.  Her supple breasts pressing in to his chest, her delicious scent invaded his senses as he closed his eyes and pulled her other hand in closer between their bodies.

 

  _For I never knew the art of making love_

_Though my heart aches with love for you._

_Afraid and shy, I let my chance go by._

_A chance that you might love me, too_

As if trying intentionally to ruin Ron’s evening, Hermione’s Hufflepuff dance partner, tapped him on the shoulder.

 

“May I cut in?”

 

 Hermione pulled back from Ron, looking at the young man who was smiling eagerly.  The earth seemed to pause on its axis as some strange force of nature caused his heart to stop beating and everyone seemed to freeze in time as they heard the last refrain of the music.

_You give your hand to me_

_and then you say goodbye._

_I watch you walk away_

_beside the lucky guy._

_Oh, you’ll never know_

_the one who loves you so,_

_well you don’t know me._   

The world only resumed its rotation when she returned her gaze firmly to him.  So many emotions flashed in a single second.  Ron’s very soul was fearing her rejection and also radiating hopefulness and desire.  He sensed that he saw the same desire in her eyes, the want in the way that her body responded to his.  Still clasping hands, she never attempted to pull free although Ron knew he’d let her walk away if she withdrew.  Some part of him was holding on for dear life as if this single moment were some turning point.  Whether it was telepathy, her heart thumping out a message to him in morse code or maybe the influences of a guardian angel guiding her steps, she squeezed Ron’s hand with her reply, even before speaking.

 

“I’m sorry, Stephen, but I’m Ron’s date tonight and I’d like to dance with him.”

 

Ron felt himself grow about an inch taller and a chorus of voices sang out in his head as she rested her head back on his chest.  Pulling his shoulders back, he sucked in a breath, maybe in relief, but more so in confidence and a kind of tipsy excitement.  He suspected this was how it felt to win some fantastic lottery or prize where the person had never won anything before in their life and suddenly they were rich beyond their wildest dreams.

 

The slower music continued as the hour waned and Hermione released a deep breath as she nestled her cheek against Ron’s soft robes.  He wrapped his hand around hers, so soft, warm and small compared to his.  Acting purely by instinct, he lifted it to his mouth and placed a gentle kiss on the top of her hand, feeling he now had earned the right to do so.  She smiled at his gesture and Ron moved his head down a bit so that her cheek was now resting against his and she lifted her chin so that Ron’s mouth was now directly by her ear and her mouth by his.

 

The sounds of her breath in his ear and the heat of it on his neck caused a flash of warmth to spread throughout his body and he suspected that she felt the same when her lips cracked open as if swallowing a breath of life affirming oxygen.  Her head began to tip to the side, inviting him to continue.

 

Her slender neck called to him and he couldn’t resist brushing his lips against it.  With closed eyes, his breathing and heartbeat became one with the smooth beat of the music.  A flutter of soft eyelashes, tickled Ron’s cheek and he open his eyes.  The warm smile that spread over his face was met by a similar look on Hermione’s face as he gave her a gentle squeeze.  He had never felt so happy in his entire life.  These irresistible, feminine gestures were completely responsible for the pain in his cheek muscles and the twitter in his stomach.

 

She began to pull her head back, and as she did, Ron’s lips took advantage of the opening and made their way along her jaw.  He sensed her eyes fluttering shut and she tensed, probably experiencing the same flip-flop sensation in her stomach as him.  Terrified of moving closer to her, he prayed to all the forces of love that he would find the courage to keep advancing.

 

As their foreheads brushed, he sensed her slip against him as if her knees no longer locked and he gripped her a bit firmer, her satin-covered stomach now meeting his.   He kept watching, heart pounding, breathing steady until she opened her eyes to find his lips just parted, waiting for her.  He nudged the tip of her nose and slipped across, his lips finally reaching their intended goal.

 

It was new and tender, soft and very slow.  He pressed his lips against hers, withdrawing and then advancing again, demonstrating gentleness and trying to show her his affection.  On his third approach, he felt Hermione melt into him and he wrapped his other arm around to hold her tightly against him as her hands snaked their way around the nape of his neck and into his hair.

 

How much time elapsed, it’s unknown, and who sensed it first is another question, but the music had stopped playing and Ron’s eyes opened to discover they were the only two left on the dance floor.  Hermione must have sensed his movement for she stepped back, joining him in the blushing department when they realized several sets of eyes were on them.  To Ron’s relief, Harry and Ginny were deep in conversation by the table and hadn’t noticed them, at least he hoped.  However, he considered that having everyone witness their first kiss wouldn’t be so bad for at least they would know that she belonged to him.  At least that’s what he dreamt of.  The two of them, a couple, and he hoped that this had been the first step in that quest.  Stepping back from Hermione, he smiled and offered his hand.  She intertwined her fingers with his and they walked back to the table.

 

The four of them were some of the last to leave the ball that evening with Ron and Hermione following a few steps behind Harry and Ginny as they all entered the common room.  All the other students had gone up to the dorms and as they were alone, Ginny offered Harry a sound kiss on the lips, one that he returned with apparent eagerness.

 

Even from his trailing distance, Ron could hear the “Goodnight, Harry,” whispered from his sister to her intended and then as she pulled away a louder, “Goodnight, Ron.  Hermione, you coming up?”  

 

“In a minute, Ginny.”  Ginny headed up the girls’ steps with a smile.

 

“Well…” Harry yawned, interrupting his sentence, “I’m going to get some sleep.”  He slapped Ron on the shoulder and took off up the boys’ side.

 

They waited until both partners were out of sight before turning back to one another.  She took a step closer to him and wrapped one arm around his waist.  “I had a wonderful time tonight, Ron.”

 

“Me, too.”  His hands slid up her arms and cupped her cheeks as he kissed her again, pulling away with a huge grin on his face.  “You’re coming for Christmas Eve, right?”  His hands dropped to caress her back.

 

“Yeah, your Mom invited my whole family.”

 

“Oh…well, that’s great…I mean, it will be nice to see your parents again.”

 

“Are you all packed for tomorrow?” she decided to try and keep up the safe chatter for fear that if the conversation turned to anything else, she wouldn’t know how to react.  Ron seemed to sense the conversation was turning back to normal and let go of her, taking one small step back.

 

“I just have to finish a few things in the morning.  So…ah…will you wait for me for breakfast?”

 

“Of course, but don’t be late, we have to help the younger students get in the carriages so, we need to get through breakfast quick.”

 

“Yeah, I know.”  Ron studied his shoes for a moment, not wanting the moment to end, but not sure what to say.  Hermione seemed to notice his nervousness and must have decided to take the initiative for she stood up on her tip-toes and place a sweet kiss on his lips.  He seemed pleasantly surprised to receive yet another kiss and much more self-confident.  Ron reached around her waist, lifting her off the ground as he returned the kiss with one of his own.  He carefully returned her to the ground and pulled back.  “By the way, I love that dress.”

 

She smiled, flirting with her eyes, “Goodnight, Ron.”  Swaying her hips, she glanced over her shoulder as she ascended the stairs for the audience of one that was watching.  He couldn’t help but watch her red-satin covered hips entice him and bid him farewell at the same time.

 

“Oh, God” he mumbled, releasing a joyous breath.  His eyes remained glued to her figure until it disappeared around the corner and he jumped in the air, pumping his fist.  “Yes!”

 

A distant girlish giggle echoed down from the staircase.

 

***

 

The following morning, Ron and Harry found the girls waiting for them in the Common Room as promised.  Harry easily reached for Ginny’s hand, bringing it up to his lips for a brief good morning kiss before the two of them split back apart, continuing their pact to remain unassuming in public.  Even at the ball the previous night, they hadn’t kissed while in the Great Hall, trying to appear more as friends.  Ron, Hermione and only a few other trusted friends were ever witness to the love that actually existed between them.

 

Ron, on the other hand, was yearning to show Hermione more affection, maybe not necessarily in public, but after the previous nights’ breakthrough between the two of them, he wondered whether he now had permission to actually kiss Hermione whenever he wanted to.  And right now, he definitely wanted to, but he stopped himself, believing that he should let Hermione take the lead and show him how their new relationship was going to proceed.  He smiled warmly and stepped much closer to her than usual as he offered his greeting.

 

“Good Morning.”

 

The warmth of her returning smile made Ron stand up a little taller and feel a rush of happiness float through him.  Her chocolate brown eyes radiated affection as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down toward her for a soft kiss on the lips.

 

“Good Morning.  Hungry?”  That was a silly question as Ron was always in a state of hunger, but he simply nodded and she slipped her hand into his as they marched down to breakfast.

 

Harry was already loading up his plate when Ron and Hermione joined him.  Ginny had moved down to sit with the other sixth year students, but her glances back at Harry and his to her made it obvious that the distance was only for appearances.

 

“Go ahead and start, Ron.  I’m going to talk to Professor McGonagall for a moment.”  Hermione walked off as Ron grabbed a plate and started adding plenty of scrambled eggs and bacon.  The hall still had many of the decorations from the previous night, but the tables had all been returned to their rightful locations and as the next thirty minutes passed, more and more students filed in for their final meal before heading to the train station.

 

Hermione was back in a moment and rushed Harry and Ron along to finish and they grabbed their trunks and moved out to the front steps and took an inventory of the awaiting carriages.  The skies were gray and cloudy that day, appearing as if they wished to drop their heavy load on the earth at any moment.  The ground was already covered with several inches of snow, but it was a week old now.  The temperatures were quite cold, enough so that it would probably snow or sleet when the time came.  

 

Always having a plan of action for everything, Hermione asked Harry and Ron to move up toward the front carriages to assist the first and second year students.  Almost immediately, all three noticed the presence of several Aurors on the grounds.  This was nothing new, but they still looked to see who had been assigned for their own information.  Tonks, with her bright pink hair, was hard to miss, standing at the main gates and Emmeline Vance and Kingsley Shacklebolt were just yards away, near the fourth set of carriages.

 

The train was scheduled to leave promptly at ten o’clock and as if to intentionally create a delay, the first snow flakes in five days began to fall and by the time the first students came out, huge, fluffy crystals were easily covering all previously brown and gray walkways and paths.  The younger students thought it was terribly fun and were all trying to catch snowflakes on their tongues as they ran out of the school.

 

Hermione began shouting out directions, sending the first years to the front where she could just see Harry, waving them toward him.  Ginny waved to her as she levitated her trunk to an open carriage.  Hermione’s attention was drawn to Neville whose trunk had split open, spilling its contents on the steps just as the first carriages pulled out.

 

Breaking the still beauty of the morning, an echo of screams rang through the air, seemingly changing the snow flakes to ice.  A shiver ran down Hermione’s spine as she turned to confirm her suspicions.  Death Eaters had apparated just outside the gates and were attacking the carriages that had pulled out, those mostly containing the younger students.

 

A group of them were running at full speed toward the school and Hermione began screaming at everyone to get back inside the castle.  Just then a louder explosion made everyone duck as the debris from a carriage rained down on everyone, wood splinters flying in every direction and impaling themselves on several students.  

 

***

 

Harry had been assisting first years into the carriages, under the watchful eye of Tonks and Mad-Eye who were just outside the gates.  He was instructed to stay within the gates until the final carriages began to pull out at which time they would escort him down to the train.  A series of popping noises whipped Harry around to see at least ten Death Eaters moving through the gates.  Tonks began immediately throwing curses, but Harry didn’t see Mad-Eye anymore.  He stole a glance to his right and could see Ron’s tall figure pulling students back out of the carriage and pointing toward the castle.  Harry took cover behind one of the carriages as the first few robed figures bared down on him.  

 

“HARRY!”  Ginny’s voice cut through the ice like a ray of sunlight, burning a spot into Harry’s side.  Throwing curses as he rolled to his right, he ran toward Ginny, screaming for her to get down.

 

“Ginny, get out of here!”  He quickly raised his shield as a stream of red lights flew toward them.  

 

“I’m not going without you!”

 

“Ginny.  Please just go!”  He had reached the carriage where Ginny was hiding, also throwing curses at the uncoming barrage.

 

“Find Potter!”  Then, Harry heard that awful cackling voice that had haunted his dreams so often.

 

“Hawwry!  Come out, come out and play!”  Harry ducked down peering below the carriage and saw her, the long black hair hanging out of her hood as she pulled the white mask away from her face and threw another curse toward the carriage.  Harry raised as strong a shield as he could manage and jumped on top of Ginny as the carriage blew apart into a million pieces.  With the explosion still ringing in his ears, he could just make out the voice of a woman yelling to him.  “Harry!  Take Ginny and port out!  Do it now!”  As the dust cleared enough for him to see the face that went with the voice, he realized Tonks was now marching boldly toward Bellatrix LeStrange.  His first instinct said to stay and provide back up, but he turned and realized his shield hadn’t been quite enough to cover both of them as Ginny had a shard of wood stuck in her leg and was crying in pain, clutching her thigh as blood poured forth, leaving her incapacitated.  He knew that his only choice was to take her and go.  He wrapped his arms around Ginny, tapping his pin.

 

“Abeo” activated his Portkey and they were gone in a flash.

 

***

 

Ron had been halfway between Harry and Hermione, helping with the fourth set of carriages when the attack began.  The five little second year girls in the carriage nearest him all began screaming and Ron pulled them out and pushed them behind him as he poked his head around the back of the carriage to see the billowing black robes approaching quickly.  Scanning the area, Ron realized the main entrance was too far for the girls to go without being in the open and susceptible to the oncoming assault, but then he saw another alternative.

 

“Girls, run to the greenhouse, go in and hide under the tables!” he was pulling the last girl out as the others stood frozen in fear, trembling on the patch of grass.  

 

A little blonde girl was crying, “I’m scared!”

 

Ron knew there wasn’t much time, but his protective brotherly instincts kicked in, kneeling down before her.  “I know you are, I am too, but you have to hide.”  He saw her burgundy and gold colored robes.  “Now, show me your Gryffindor courage and head to the greenhouses.”

 

He gave her the briefest of hugs and grabbed the other girls, pushing them in the opposite direction.

 

“Run!” was his last command before a stinging curse grazed his arm and he spun around, returning a “Stupefy” at the cloaked figure that was rounding the carriage.  It missed and Ron ducked, rolling to his right as he swung out to take the legs out from under the Death Eater.  Whoever this was, he wasn’t as big as Ron, but he was fast and another curse just missed Ron as the figure fell to the ground.  Being in such close proximity, a quick punch to the face, disabled his assailant, the white mask flying off to reveal a young man, about Ron’s age.  With Ron kneeling on his wrist, the Death Eater was forced to release the grip on his wand and Ron snatched it up and quickly snapped it in half, throwing it to the side.

 

Just as Ron stood up, the explosion from the carriage to his left sent him rolling back on the ground.  Trying to take cover under the carriage in front of him, he quickly regained his stance and began returning curses as he ran to his left, knowing Harry had been stationed in the general direction of the explosion.  

 

***

 

Hermione pulled herself up, following the destruction of the carriage up front and continued calling to the students to get back in the school.  She saw Neville, who had run out to help with the students, now lying on the ground just yards away and he wasn’t moving.  Another stream of white light came straight at her head and she fell to her knees and started crawling toward Neville’s body.  It appeared that most of the Death Eaters were focusing on the area closest to the gate and as she reached Neville, she took a moment to look him over.  To her utter horror, she saw a large gash in his neck and blood was spurting forth.  Neville was shaking uncontrollably, lying in the snow and she knew he was going into shock from the blood loss.  The crimson liquid, pulsing from Neville’s neck, made her gasp and begin to cry, sure that her friend was going to die right in front of her.  Neville needed Madam Pomfrey, but there wasn’t time to move him and she knew it would be up to her to stop the flow of blood until she could get him help.

 

Quickly trying to recall any healing spells that would work, she waved her wand over his neck, trying to close the wound.  The first spell didn’t seem to make any difference as Neville’s eyes, awash with terror, stared into hers, the life draining from them as she called out another spell.  This one closed the wound enough that the blood stopped pouring out, but he was still trembling and his hand was clutching Hermione’s robe as his body shook.

 

“Neville.  Lie still.”  Taking a brief moment to stroke his forehead, she continued, “I stopped the bleeding. You’re going to be okay.  Just stay here and I’ll get help.”  Unclasping her robe, she pulled it off and placed it over Neville, attempting to keep him warm and stop the onset of shock, something she had read in a first aid book at some point in her life.

 

The attack was shifting toward her with three Death Eaters bearing down on her location fast.  She threw up a shield as another set of curses flew toward her.  Calling out a jelly-legs jinx, one of the masked attackers went down, just as another flew at her from the side.  Striking her shoulder with a sharp sting, her wand flew out of her numb hand and she flew back, landing on her back in the snow.

 

“We’ve got one!” called out one of the hooded figures as he approached her.

 

***

 

Ron was still making his way toward the gates when he saw the bright spiked hair that he knew so well, exchanging a barrage of fire with several hooded figures.  He moved in quickly, throwing a curse to her right, taking out one as he was about to ambush her from the side.

 

“Thanks!” she yelled out as Ron reached her side.  

 

“Where’s Harry?” Ron asked.

 

“He ported away with Ginny.  Ron, you need to find Hermione and get out of here!”

 

Another stream of red light flew toward them and Tonks pushed Ron out of its path.  “I can stay and fight.  You need help!” Ron was arguing.

 

“Ron, now that Harry’s gone, they’re after you and Hermione.  Bellatrix stupidly told me herself.  Now, you have to go!  As soon as you leave, they’ll retreat!”  Ron seemed dumbfounded for a moment until he looked up the hill toward the steps and saw Hermione flying backward into a snow bank.

 

“Hermione!”  He screamed and started running toward her.

 

Tonks’ footsteps could be heard behind him as he started shooting off a constant barrage of curses toward his left.  His eyes never left Hermione’s form as he battled his way up the hill.  A group of Aurors, having just appeared outside the gates, were running toward them.  It was a seen of utter chaos, members of the Order and the DA against a blur of flowing black robes, jets of red, white and green lights flashing through the air like lightning in a storm.  The falling snow seemed to twinkle in various colors as the heat of the curses melted the snowflakes into rain.  Screams continued as more students tripped up the steps of the school, stumbling and crawling to safety.  Ron’s heart stopped for a moment as he witnessed one student take a curse squarely in the chest and crumpled, rolling down the stairs to land on the cold gray stone at the bottom.

 

He suddenly heard Seamus’ voice calling out, “Ron, behind you!”

 

He spun, rolling to his left and crouched down, calling out, “Expelliarmus!” watching the threat fly back, hitting a nearby rock, the robed body slumping over.  Just feet away, his attention was drawn to a boy lying still in the snow and he crawled over yelling “Ennervate,” watching as the boy’s eyes lit back up to life.

 

“Are you okay?  You need to get back in the school.”  Just at that same moment, Seamus reached the two of them, kneeling in the snow.  “Seamus, get him in the castle!”

 

***

 

Hermione lay motionless for a moment until the effects of the curse began to wane and she tried to scramble back, but her worst fears were realized when the approaching figure’s voice broke the silence, filling her heart with dread.  She recognized that voice and it terrified her very soul.

 

“Well, well, if it isn’t the Granger girl.  We meet again.  Won’t you be a nice prize for my master.”

 

“I’m nobody’s prize and you can tell Tom to go to hell!”

 

“How dare you speak of him like that!  You need to learn some manners.  Crucio!” 

 

The beam hit Hermione and she began to writhe in agony, screaming through her gasps and shaking viciously in the snow and rain.  The pain was beyond anything she could comprehend, leaving her unable to hear, to see, to feel anything besides the searing burn within her chest, the cramping in her arms and legs, the sense of a white hot poker tearing off her flesh.  Her only thought was that of pleading for unconsciousness, anything to end the pain.

 

“Dolohov, stop!” commanded the masked figure behind him.  He lifted the curse and she rolled to her side, heaving her breakfast and collapsing face first in the snow, her clothes now soaked through.

 

“The master wants her alive and well, not with a damaged brain!”  Dolohov knelt down in the snow, poking Hermione in the back with his wand testing if she was indeed unconscious.  “She’ll be fine.”  He called out a body bind curse, tightly wrapping Hermione’s arms at her side, her face still down in the frozen ground.  “Give me the Portkey,” Dolohov demanded, reaching his hand out to the group behind him.

 

However, before he could complete his task, at the group of Aurors lead by Kingsley ambushed them from behind.  Dolohov spun around, appearing confident that his prize would remain safe until he took care of the immediate threat.  

 

***

 

Ron began scanning the ground, not seeing Hermione anymore as he stepped over several lifeless forms.  His breath was now coming in laborious gasps as panic filled his form.  The battle had turned toward the gate and Ron’s only priority was to find Hermione and escape.  He saw a Gryffindor cape lying over a body on the ground and ran over, kneeling down to see Neville, barely conscious with a huge red gash in this throat, pools of red coating the surrounding snow.  

 

“Neville!  Oh, my god.  What happened to you?”  Looking toward the castle, he saw Seamus re-emerge, having helped the other boy inside.  “Seamus!  Get over here!”  Dean Thomas stepped out directly behind him and came running as well.  They slid into the snow beside him.  “Help him.  I’ve got to find Hermione!”

 

His eyes again searched the surrounding area when they locked on a mass of curly brown hair lying in a snow bank.  With his heart now pumping firmly in his throat, he scrambled to his feet and ran toward it, slipping in the snow at her feet and crawling up beside the body.

 

“Hermione?”  His hand hesitated for the briefest of seconds, afraid of what he might see when he turned the body over.  Seeing the vomit beside her, but no blood, he carefully lifted the hair back from her face and rolled her over.  With her arms still pressed to her sides, she gave the impression of a rigored body, the life already drained, leaving nothing but a shell of skin and bones.  Her eyes were closed, but he could just see the rise and fall of her lungs through her soaked white uniform blouse.

 

He cradled her head, brushing back the wet hair from her reddened face.  She was ice cold and Ron considered for a moment that she was already dead and he was possibly imagining the breath he saw entering and exiting her body.

 

“Hermione.  Wake up.  Ennervate!”  

 

“Expelliarmus!” bellowed behind him and Ron’s wand flew out of his hand.  His focus fell on the small pin attached to Hermione’s collar and he frantically searched under his robe to find the collar of his own, clutching Hermione to his chest and calling out “Abeo” finding the means to their escape.


	3. Chapter 3 - Locked In

 

The first sound Harry heard as he landed with a thump was the painful wail coming from Ginny.  She fell back to the ground, still clutching her leg.

 

“Harry.  Oh, God.  It hurts.  Get it out!  Get it out!”

 

“Be still, Ginny.  Let me look.”  The half-inch wide piece of wood was lodged firmly in her leg, just above the hem of her skirt and Harry ran his hands through his hair, considering what to do for her.  “Oh, God, Ginny.   What if it starts bleeding worse when I pull this out?”

 

“I don’t care!  It hurts.  PULL IT OUT!”  The tears continued to course down her cheeks, her face contorted in agony.

 

“Okay, okay.”  He tried to calm himself and look at the projectile, grasping it firmly and placing his other hand against her thigh.  His first thought was to extract it gently, but something told him that the pain might cause her to pass out and he changed his mind and with one swift pull, removed the stake from her flesh.  She screamed as it came out and he threw it across the room, quickly putting pressure on her leg as blood began to rush forth.

 

“Damn it!”  He was afraid of this and started considering his options to stop the bleeding.

 

Ginny was quiet for a second and he thought she had passed out until her head tipped to the side, mouth open and her eyes opened narrowly and looked directly at him.  “Ginny.  Do you know any good healing spells?”  His hopefulness at her alertness was crushed as her eyes slipped shut.

 

Harry remembered Professor McGonagall’s comments about the safe houses having first aid kits and potion ingredients.  This was the first moment Harry had to examine his surroundings.  He was in the main room of a small cottage, lying on a braided rug.  A fire was roaring in the fireplace, Harry only now realizing that he had heard the sound of it springing to life as they fell into the room.  There were several pieces of simple furniture in the room, a small sofa, a chair and table beside a small window.  Heavy curtains were drawn all around the room, giving the appearance of night even though Harry knew it was morning.  

 

Taking her hand, he pressed it palm down on her thigh.  “Ginny.  Put your hand here and push down.”  He paused to see if she was actually conscious and a subtle nod confirmed her understanding, although she never spoke.  

 

A quick tour of the house revealed a dining table with chairs and a small kitchen.  There, on the counter, sat a box with a healer symbol on the top.  Snatching the kit from the counter, he ran back toward Ginny, lifting the lid to find some parchment with a list of healing spells and various viles containing potions in every color of the rainbow.  Noting how she seemed to lack the means to maintain pressure, the bleeding had started again.  

 

He forced his hand down on the wound, all the while scanning the parchment for help.  Finding an appropriate spell, he grasped his wand and uttered the words that began to stop the flow of blood.  The wound was still open and he noted a few splinters of wood still in her leg.  Cautiously, he tweazed out the tiny fragments with his fingers.  As he continued to read the instructions, he discovered a vial containing a type of salve that was to be used on open wounds to prevent infection.  He quickly applied the thick potion and then grabbed some white gauze type fabric from the first aid box, deciding to wrap the wound.

 

“Ginny?”  Her continuing silence concerned Harry who looked at her, trying to gauge her reaction to his modest healing skills.  Her mouth was open and she was still breathing quickly, but with deeper force.  Praying for her eyes to open, he looked back to the wound.

 

Throughout the entire ordeal, Harry’s focus had been on her injury and only now did it strike him that her skirt was flipped up, exposing much more leg than he had ever seen, along with the white cotton of her knickers along one side of her hip.  Attempting to swallow the lump in his throat, his hand hesitated as it finally reached her skirt and pulled it back down.  He tossed his head back, taking a deep breath and trying to collect his thoughts and composure, feeling the wash of relief that they were safe at the moment.

 

Running his hand through his hair, he took inventory of their situation.  Ginny was still out, but he knew he had to move her from the hard floor and he checked out the rest of the cottage, discovering a bed with a modest dresser in a room just behind the kitchen.  There was a bathroom just off that and he even found a small stack of towels and basic toiletries on the counter.  It appeared that the cottage was just as Remus had described, stocked for one or two people for a very brief stay.  

 

“Ginny.”  He lifted her head and shoulders off the floor, propping her up against his arm.  “Ginny, if you can hear me, put your arms around my neck.”

 

She mumbled something incoherent, but her right arm swung around his neck and he felt her grasp his shirt collar.  Carefully, slipping his arm under her legs, he lifted her up.  She immediately sucked in a breath.  “I’m sorry, Gin, but I need to move you.  You’re going to be fine.”  As he walked to the bedroom, he kept offering gentle reassurances that she was safe.

 

Depositing her on the quilt, he moistened a towel and proceeded to clean the remaining blood off of her legs and was removing her shoes and socks when a very quiet voice finally interrupted.  

 

“Harry, what are you doing?”  His head snapped up, pleased to see that she was awake.

 

“Hey,” he smiled, pulling off her last sock and untucking the quilt from beneath her.

 

“Where are we?” she asked, trying to raise herself up onto her elbows, but finding herself too weak to manage.

 

“No, no, you lie down and rest a bit.”  She fell back to the pillow.  “We’re in a Ministry run safe house.  I had an emergency Portkey that took us here and someone will be along very soon to collect us.  Meanwhile, just rest and let your leg heal.”

 

“What happened?  I mean, I remember an explosion and a sharp pain in my leg and I told you to pull it out and then I don’t remember anything else.”

 

“I activated the Portkey and after we got here, I healed your leg as best I could and bandaged it up.”  The white-washed look that crept over her face indicated he had seen the blood on Harry’s sleeve and on the towels lying on the table beside the bed.

 

“Is that my blood?”  She gulped.

 

“Yes, but you’re alright now.  You just need to rest and keep warm.  It’s kind of chilly in here.”

 

She tried to raise up again.  “Where are Ron and Hermione?”  Her voice, a bit stronger now, indicated her concern.

 

“I don’t know, Ginny.  Tonks told me to take you and get out.  I wanted to stay, but you were hurt and Tonks told me they were after me and if I left, they’d stop the attack.  So…”  He shrugged, implying the rest of his sentence.

 

“Now, please…” he kissed her forehead “lay down and rest.”  She didn’t move, but watched him as he got off the bed.  “I’m going to check the fire and see what else is in this house.”

 

He peered through the curtains on the window, seeing nothing but a field to the back of the house.  The other window faced some trees and a gravel road that wound out away from the cottage.  Moving back to the main part of the house, he checked the other windows and feeling everything looked secure, he decided to attempt to open the door, however, he found it was imperturbed and his hand suffered a small burn as he pushed against the door.  Withdrawing his hand quickly, he stepped back, gripping his wrist and moved to the kitchen sink to find relief from some cold water.  He looked in the cupboard and found a few packages of simple biscuits, crackers and cereal.  There was a jar of jam and instructions on how to transfigure more things to eat.

 

He filled a glass with water and took it to Ginny, sitting down in the chair by the bed.  

 

“Thanks,” she offered, taking a sip of the water.  “So, what now?”

 

“I guess we just wait.  I tried the door, but it was locked up tight.  I think it’s imperturbed and I know we can’t apparate.  Um, there’s some biscuits and stuff in the kitchen.  Are you hungry?”

 

“No.  Just cold and my leg hurts.”

 

“Do you want me to see if there is a pain potion in the first aid kit?”

 

“No.  I’ll be fine.”  She shivered, pulling the blanket up farther.  Harry moved around to the other side of the bed, away from her injured leg and was preparing to sit down in the chair.  She must have had other ideas, for she swung the blanket back, patting the mattress.  Harry only paused for a brief moment before he climbed in, curling up next to Ginny, ready to wait for help.

 

**** 

 

As they landed in the safe house, Ron got his bearings and saw the fireplace immediately spring to life.  His attentions quickly turned to Hermione who lie shivering, but seemingly unconscious on the hard wooden floor.  Her wet hair stuck to her face and the rain soaked clothes clung to her body.  Had the mood been different, Ron would have enjoyed the sight very much, but not now.  Now he was focused on caring for her, much in the same way she had for him three months earlier.  He lifted her shoulders, resting her head against his lap and cautiously pulled her toward the fireplace.  Wrapping his arms around her, he took a quick look around the room.

 

Something seemed odd.  The idea of a safe house had been explained to all of them, but this house looked deserted, not at all what he had expected.  It was quite barren, covered in cobwebs and looked like it hadn’t been used in ages.  There was an old chair, one that didn’t appear very sturdy, sitting near a door.  Beside it was a small table with a candle in a holder and a book.  The windows were partly covered by some curtains, but otherwise, there wasn’t much to look at in the old building.

 

Ron turned back to the shivering girl in his arms and pulled the hair back off her face, stroking her cold cheek with his fingers, trying to get her to wake up.  “Hermione.  Wake up.  Come on, Hermione.  Please.  You have to wake up.  You are so cold.  Why don’t you have your cloak?”  He was rocking with her now, partly for his own comfort and partly for hers.

 

“It’s okay.  Someone will come for us.  We just have to wait a little while and the Ministry will send someone.  Please wake up, Hermione.”

 

Well, at least they had a fire.  It was possibly the one thing they needed the most.  He carefully lifted her head off his lap to rest it on the floor.  Swiftly removing his own cloak, he bunched part of it into a make-shift pillow and threw part of it over her shoulders.  It was only then that he realized his own temperature was dropping and he felt a shiver run up his spine.  A quick glance out the window confirmed that the weather here was similar to that at Hogwarts and the snow was coming down pretty heavily.  Testing the door handle sent a stinging sensation up his arm from the force of the imperturbable charm placed on it.

 

He sucked in a breath, pulling his hand back, shaking it to return the feeling to his fingertips.  Another doorway led him to what he presumed to be a bedroom, the only evidence, a worn looking mattress lying on the floor with a tattered blanket folded on the end.  Another door to the left opened into a small bathroom and a couple of worn towels lie stacked on the counter.  Other than that, the room was empty.  He turned on the spigot and was happy to find he at least had water.

 

Returning to the main room, he listened for any signs of awareness from Hermione.  She was shivering quite noticeably, but was otherwise quiet.  Searching the small kitchenette, all the drawers and cupboards were bare, except for one small box of crackers which Ron suspected were pretty stale based on the look of the place.

 

Hugging himself, he rubbed his arms for warmth and decided the fireplace was probably the best place to be at the moment.  As he stood looking at a shaking Hermione on the floor, he assessed the situation and his resources and moved quickly into the other room.

 

Within minutes, the mattress was pulled in front of the fireplace, along with the blanket and he was kneeling over Hermione, talking to her again.  “Hermione.  Wake up, sweetheart.  Please.”  The note of panic in his voice was increasing.  “You’re soaking wet and you’re cold and I’m not sure what to do.”  He was stroking her head and contemplating his next action.

 

  _I should get her out of these wet clothes and then I could wrap her in the blanket and pull the mattress closer to the fire.  Yes, that would be the best thing to do, but what if she wakes up and finds me undressing her.  Oh, god.  She’ll think I’m taking advantage of her.  What if she’s seriously hurt, though.  I have to get her warm._  

 

Opening the blanket, he lay part of it across the mattress, arranging it so that he could wrap her in it.  Her teeth were chattering as another wave of shivers overtook her small frame.  Ron hurried back to the other room, retrieving the few towels that he had found and returned, feeling quite chilled himself.

 

He reached toward the buttons on her blouse, but withdrew his hands, deciding to contemplate his actions one more time.  Blowing out a deep breath, he decided to go forward and began unbuttoning her blouse, trying to keep his focus on her face and the necessary task.  However, as he peeled back the wet fabric to reveal her white cotton and lace bra, his teenage reaction was impossible to squash.  A rush of warmth crept up his neck and face and he felt other parts of him awakening even though he tried to mentally push them away.

 

Gently lifting her back, he slipped the soaked clothing from her arms and raised her higher to peel the rest of it off of her.  Her trembles increased as her now bare skin was exposed to the cool air in the room and Ron realized the urgency of completing his mission.  Using the towel, he dried her upper body and lay the towel over her chest as he reached down, searching for the method to remove her skirt.  Finding a zipper on the side, he lowered it and knelt over her leg, pulling the skirt down, over her hips, instantly revealing more of those hormone enticing undergarments that he would otherwise have loved to have seen.  

 

Her knickers began to draw down the side of her hip with the skirt and Ron promptly stopped his removal efforts.  The pink fabric seemed to carry with it an invitation and a warning to any young man who dared to touch it.  Tucked away in the recesses of all seventeen year-old minds was the desire to touch the item that was usually only available to them in their Mom’s magazines.  However, touching said garment also brought the threat of one, parental reprimands, two, a swift slap from the girl wearing said garment or three.  Well, three was too scary to even think about for it involved seeing what was underneath them.  So, keeping these threats in mind, Ron reached out just pinching a minimal amount of fabric and sliding it back up her bared hip before he released it and drew back his hand as if burned.  

 

Finally removing her skirt, he quickly stripped her shoes and socks, running the towel down her legs.  For one fleeting moment, he considered removing her bra, but thought it a bad idea and instead shifted to her side and with as much care as possible, lifted her over on top of the blanketed mattress.  Draping the blanket over her, he pulled the mattress closer to the fireplace and used the towel to go over her face and attempt to dry her hair.  Hermione’s hair was one of her best features.  However, she had passed out into her own vomit and a portion of it was covered in little chunks of foul smelling remains.

 

“Yuck” he said as he tried to wipe some of it away.  Even so, Ron couldn’t help but enjoy the softness of her curls as he ran his hands through the back part of it, lifting her head and wrapping the towel around her head.  

 

She let out a deep breath with a small sigh as Ron’s hands cradled her head.  He paused, hoping it was a sign of her returning consciousness, but she didn’t appear any different.  He did notice that her shivering had diminished and was thankful for that.  The fire felt good and he decided to get out of his own wet clothing.  Pulling the chair over toward the fire, he draped her blouse, skirt and socks over the back and proceeded to remove his own wet items and place them to dry as well.  He sat beside the hearth, enjoying the heat, but still feeling the chill from the air in the room on his back.  Looking over at Hermione, he decided to climb down to the far end of the mattress and pulled part of the blanket over himself, lying down near her legs.

 

His stomach was beginning to rumble, but the thought of a nice nap and a warm fire seemed to finally outweigh his thoughts of food for the time being and soon darkness came over his eyes.

 

***

 

As promised, a squad of Aurors descended on the safe house within an hour and Harry jumped from the bed upon hearing the door to the cottage open.  He drew his wand, moving to peer cautiously through the doorway until he recognized some familiar red hair.

 

“Bill!”

 

“Harry.  Thank heavens.  Is Ginny with you?”  Several other Aurors were moving in behind him, their wands raised, examining the room.

 

“Yeah.  She needs some medical care.  Nasty gash in her leg.”  He was leading Bill toward the bedroom.  “I used a potion in the healer kit and wrapped it.”  Harry tucked the blanket around Ginny’s body and recognized Bill’s motion toward picking her up.

 

“No, Bill, I’ve got her.  Just get us out of this house.”  Bill frowned for a moment and Harry knew he considered Harry pushy for insisting on carrying Ginny, but at this point, Harry really didn’t care.  His protective instincts had taken over and he was going to see this through.  So, despite Bill’s scowl, Harry scooped her up and followed the tall red-head out the door.  Within moments they were at St. Mungo’s and Ginny was ushered into a nearby room for care.

 

As soon as he deposited Ginny on a bed, he turned back to Bill. 

 

“What happened?  Where are Ron and Hermione?  What about Tonks?  Is the school alright?”  He felt like he couldn’t stop the endless stream of questions that were flowing from his mind as his concern for his friends, the students and teachers, and even the school itself overtook him.

 

“Well, apparently the Death Eaters started to retreat after you, Ginny, Ron and Hermione ported away.”

 

“So they’re safe?  Where are they?”

 

“Um..well, actually…we’re not sure where they are.”  Bill was rubbing a hand through his hair and over his jaw.

 

“What?” 

 

One of the other Aurors in Harry’s rescue party approached them, tapping Bill on the shoulder.

 

“Excuse me, Harry.  I’ll be right back.”  Bill took a few steps down the hallway as the robed official spoke with him.  Harry watched intently, his gut reaction telling him to barge in on their conversation and demand answers, but something made him wait patiently.  Just then a frantic looking Luna rushed down the hall toward him, her robes slashed in several places and a large burn mark on her sleeve.

 

“Harry.  I’m so glad you are alright.  Do you know what room Neville is in?”

 

“I didn’t know Neville was here.  What happened to him?”

 

“Seamus told me he was hurt really bad and I should get here as soon as possible.”

 

Harry grabbed Luna’s hand and pulled her back down the hall toward a group of healers.  “Excuse me, but I need to know where Neville Longbottom’s room is located.”

 

“Are you family?” asked a young, sandy haired man.

 

Still holding Luna’s hand firmly, Harry sighed.  He hated to use his fame to get anything, but frustration was pushing him beyond his normal actions.  He brushed the fringe away from his forehead, revealing his telltale sign of identification and the young healer’s eyes grew wide in recognition. 

 

“Oh, yes, sure.  He’s in room 312, right down this way.”  A moment later, Harry and Luna were ushered into the room to find an unconscious Neville buried under several blankets.  Another healer was in the room with him, running a wand over his neck.

 

Harry released Luna’s hand as she rushed to his bedside, a surprised healer looking up at the intrusion. 

 

“Excuse me, you shouldn’t be in here right now.”  He looked over his shoulder, noticing Harry’s presence in the room, his eyes shifting up to the scar and then turned his attention back to the wound on Neville’s neck.

 

“He was slashed across his neck, hitting the main artery and lost a lot of blood, but it appears that someone in the field performed a healing charm that closed the wound enough to keep him alive.  He was wrapped in a cloak and covered in blood when he arrived.  He’s been given several blood restorative draughts and the wound is closed and starting to heal.”

 

Harry nodded his understanding, even though no one was actually looking at him.  Luna had slipped her hand under the blanket, finding Neville’s and entwining her fingers in his.  Harry stepped up next to the healer, looking at his dorm mate who appeared pale and motionless.

 

“He’ll be alright then?”

 

“Yes, Mr. Potter, he should be fine after a few days stay with us.”

 

“Good.”  Harry let out a breath, happy to have at least one bit of good news.

 

“Mr. Potter, I hope that the stories we hear about you are true.”  Harry’s eyes snapped up to look at the profile of the man as he continued his wand motion over Neville’s neck.  “I’m tired of seeing these battered bodies coming and going through here every time another attack happens.  He has to be stopped and I pray that you’re going to do it.”  He never looked at Harry, but continued his care.

 

Harry’s focus shifted to Neville and then up to meet Luna’s eyes who were glazed, her lips pursed, attempting to hold back her tears.  Harry felt his resolve swell even more upon hearing the healer’s statement and Luna’s expression and he never left her gaze.

 

“Don’t worry.  I’m going to eliminate him once and for all.”  Harry placed a hand on Neville’s blanketed arm.  “Neville, you rest and feel better.  I’ll be back to see you soon.”  He spun around and left the room, intent on finding out more about his other friends and the state of the school.  The man was right, this terror had gone on for far too long and Harry had to find a way to end it.

  

**** 

 

As Hermione’s consciousness returned to her, she first sensed the heat of the fire on her face and she felt relaxed and warm.  Her eyes fluttered open, the orange, white and yellow flames flaring before her as the wood crackled and popped.  The gray stone around the fireplace didn’t look familiar and Hermione began to rewind her memory and determine where she was.  They were going home for Christmas, the carriages, the attack, Neville’s hurt and then, the pain.  Her horrible pain was still fresh in her memory and she didn’t dare to move for fear that the comfort she was currently feeling would disappear.  Allowing only her eyes to move, she glanced to her left and caught the edge of a blanket wrapped around the waist of a body.  The broad shouldered, pale and freckled back was unmistakable and she paused a moment to enjoy the warmth of not only the fire, but the lovely view of his muscular back, topped off with a head full of red hair.  He appeared to be flipping the pages of a book and Hermione thought she must be dreaming as Ron would never voluntarily read a book.  

 

She shifted her weight to roll onto her back and immediately gasped as a wave of pain rushed through her limbs.  Her face squeezed shut in a grimace as her fists clenched around the blanket that surrounded her.

 

“Hermione?”  Her sounds of pain had obviously attracted his attention.  “Hermione?  Are you awake?”  He crawled over to sit beside the mattress, keeping the portion of blanket wrapped around his waist.

 

The ache that was pulsating through her back, chest and legs, was intense, but she managed to eek out a response.  “Yes.”

 

“Don’t move.  Just lie still and rest.”  His hand was on her forehead, stroking her hair back and then feeling her cheeks.  “Are you warm enough?”  She felt him pulling the blanket farther up around her neck and she opened her eyes, his blue ones staring back at her in concern.

 

“What happened?  Where are we?”  It was weak sounding and somewhat breathy.

 

Ron explained how he had found her in the snow bank, lost his wand and ported them away.  He quickly added that Harry and Ginny had escaped just before them to reassure her before she had the chance to ask about her other friends.

 

“Hermione, I think something went wrong with the Portkey.”

 

“What do you mean?”  She still refused to move, but her eyes studied him carefully through his explanation.

 

“This house appears deserted, not like what we expected.  I think it may have been one of the Ministry’s safe houses at one point, but it’s not stocked with supplies and it’s in poor condition.  I just hope that someone knows we’re here and they’re on their way to get us.”

 

“Did you try to get out?”

 

“Of course, I did, but the door is imperturbed and without my wand, I’m not able to do much.”

 

Trying to gather her courage, she attempted to raise herself up.  She winced again as the pain in her back reminded her of the curse her body had endured.  However, to her surprise, the pain seemed to pale in comparison to the shock of cool air hitting her bare skin as she sat up and the blanket fell away from her.  Her eyes flew open to see his, locked on her chest for a brief second before he turned his head to the side.  She looked down at the pool of fabric around her waist and covering her legs and followed it to see the rest was wrapped around a somewhat naked Ron.  She grabbed the edge of the blanket and pulled it back up, sucking in a breath as her back clearly reminded her of the situation.

 

“Where are my clothes?”

 

“They’re drying by the fire.  You were soaking wet and shivering when we arrived.”

 

Part of her wanted to feel angry, somehow taken advantage of, but as she turned to see her blouse and skirt lying on the chair next to the fire, the negative emotions seemed to dissipate and were replaced with a sense of gratitude looking at Ron’s expression.

 

He briefly met her eyes before turning back toward the fire.  “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you.  I tried not to stare at you or anything.  I…I just wanted to get you warm.”

 

She reached over to touch his arm, halting when the shot of pain made her withdraw.

 

“It’s okay.  I understand.”  A slow smile crept across her face.  “You didn’t stare at all?”  One eyebrow had arched up.

 

Ron’s expression remained serious, certainly trying to convince her of the nobility of his actions.  

 

“No!  I covered you up right away.”  The grin on Hermione’s face must have given it away because he glanced down at the blanket in his lap.  “Well, I might have noticed a few things, but just for a second.”

 

“I’m sure you were a perfect gentleman…well, as perfect as can be expected, considering the circumstances.”

 

Her grin faded as she looked around the room.  Ron was right.  From what she could see, this house looked utterly abandoned.  At least the fireplace had sprung to life and she was relatively warm at the moment.  Her eyes spun back onto Ron.

 

“What are you reading?”

 

“Oh, I found it lying on the table.  It’s some story about a Muggle priest and some woman.”  He flipped the book over, showing Hermione the cover.

 

“How long have we been here?”  She still wasn’t moving, opting to remain pain free with as little motion as possible.

 

“Um…I guess about three hours.”  He folded a page on the book and set it down.  “Are you hungry?  There isn’t much, but I found some biscuits and you can have them, if you want.”

 

“No.  That’s okay.  However, I really need to use the loo.”

 

Once again, her attempt to raise her aching body from the mattress, brought a fresh wave of cramps over her muscles.  It was as if a knife had torn into her, halting her movement and sending her wracked body back to the mattress.  Her very audible cries of distress captured Ron’s immediate attention.  He scrambled to her side, appearing unsure of what to say or do.

 

She lay very still, trying to regain her ability to speak, for the agonizing spasms had sucked all of the air from her lungs.  Ron reached out to touch her arm, but hesitated and drew back, possibly afraid he might inflict more pain on her already weakened form.  However, Hermione was thankful for whatever urges compelled him to try again for his fingers gently smooth over her forearm and it felt comforting.

 

“Hermione?”  Ron’s appeared overwhelmed with their situation and Hermione sensed that between her cries of pain and his hunger, he was having a hard time focusing on what he could do to help improve their lot.  Finally, she calmed enough, having not dared to move for a few moments.

 

“Ron.  I need to use the loo.”  Her voice was now strained and her brows etched as her eyes squinted at the early formation of tears.  The pain was becoming more than she could handle on her own.

 

“Um…can I carry you or will that hurt too much?”

 

Her first thought was that of anger at her helplessness.  She detested playing the role of the incapable female, but then at her bladder’s urging, she dropped all pretenses and decided that asking for and receiving Ron’s help was going to be the deed of the day.

 

“Can you try?  Please?”

 

“Sure.”  He unwound himself from the blanket and Hermione noted that he was only wearing his boxers.  In any other circumstance she would have felt amused, enticed, or dare she say, aroused, by this sight.  However, that had been put aside in favor of more immediate needs.

 

He knelt next to her, seeming to gauge where to put his hands and how to best leverage his body to help her into the next room.  He pulled the blanket off of her, lifting her leg slowly, to unwrap it from the cotton covering.  He raised one leg, getting his strength and balance below him before sliding an arm behind her back and another under her legs.

 

“I hope this won’t hurt too much.”  As cautiously as he could, he lifted himself and her.  “I’ll try not to jostle you around too much.”  Hermione’s victimized muscles thanked him.  

 

“You know, I never lifted a girl, not even Ginny.”  He sounded as if he were trying to fill the silence with some easy conversation and keep their minds off her pain.  “In fact, the only thing I ever lifted was George and that was to tackle him after a rough game of Quidditch.”

 

This told Hermione that he obviously had the strength to pick up a sizable body.  Besides, he didn’t seem to be struggling with her at all.  His bare skin was warm and smooth against hers as he carried her to the next room.  She had cried out only once as he lifted her and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to hold back the pain as he moved with all haste toward the other room.

 

Within seconds, he had delivered her to her destination.  This was truly odd.  She felt embarrassed and she sensed it from him as well.  He was obviously trying to figure out where to put her, the commode or the floor?  She hoped that she could stand and take care of business on her own.  He lowered her down so that her feet touched the floor and he started to release one hand, but as soon as she tried to support her own weight, her leg muscles seemed to give out and she leaned heavily on him.  He eased her down to sit on top of the closed toilet seat.

 

Hermione realized his uncomfortable predicament.  “Thanks” was all she managed, still trying to get a grip on her aching muscles.

 

“Well, um…I’ll just wait outside for a minute.”  She watched him struggle to swallow a hard lump before he backed out of the room, carefully closing the door.  

 

***

 

Ron stood like a sentry on the other side of the door.  He heard a sharp cry, followed by a grunt and a few more sounds of unease until the telltale sound of her relief filled the room.  Ron took a moment to look around the barren bedroom again, still finding little, if nothing, that they could use.  A second later she called out.  “Ron?”

 

He spoke through the door.  “Yeah.”

 

“Do you think they’ll be coming for us soon?”

 

“I don’t know Hermione.  This place looks like it’s been abandoned for an awfully long time.  I’m just not sure.  You should probably just rest.  I don’t have any potions or anything to help with the pain.”

 

“Does the water work?  I mean, is there any hot water?”

 

“Um…yeah, I think so.  Why?”

 

“Could you run me a bath?  That’s usually helpful after cases of Cruciatus damage.  Maybe if I soak...”

 

“Yeah.  Yeah, sure.  Um…hold on.”  He dashed back to the fireplace, grabbing the two towels he had found.  Luckily, they had dried out fairly well by the fire, along with Hermione’s blouse and he scooped them up and headed back to the bathroom.”

 

Placing his hand on the door knob, he leaned his shoulder to the panel.  “Can I come in?”

 

“Well, I’m kind of naked from the waist down, but I guess you have to come in if you’re going to run the bath.  Can you hand me something to cover up with?”  

 

Well, that visual image pretty much ground him to a halt.  Any thought of Hermione naked below the waist sent him into testosterone overdrive and he couldn’t control the natural reaction that occurred in his now rising male member.  “Get a grip, Ron” he whispered to himself before opening the door.

 

His body was having a battle of wits with his brain, one tempting the other to stare at naked Hermione while the other chided him to look away.  He thrust out a hand, holding the now dry towel.

 

“Here.  Cover yourself.”  

 

However, before she could completely hide her womanly charms, he caught the smallest of glimpses of her bared hip.

 

A moment later, the water was rushing into the tub.  Ron tried to rinse out any dirt or dust that had built up and tested the temperature before plugging the stopper and letting it fill.  “Um…how hot do you want it?”

 

“Well, obviously, I don’t want to scald myself, but as hot as I can stand it.  You’ll have to be the gauge.”  He just looked at her, feeling the stress of responsibility pressing in on him.  Hermione usually had all the answers, told him what to do to the letter and he followed, but she was relinquishing everything to him.  He would only blame whom ever had cursed this beautiful woman, but she was now relying on him for everything and he almost felt the man within him stepping forward and pushing aside the boy whose hesitancy and embarrassment were keeping him from doing what was required.

 

“There’s an extra towel and your blouse is pretty dry, but not your skirt.”

 

“Oh, thanks.”  Neither spoke as the tub finally reached a good level and Ron turned the knob.

 

“Ron?”

 

“Yeah?”  He was standing up, not quite sure what to do, but drying his hands on the legs of his boxers.

 

“Um…look, this is unbelievably embarrassing, but I think you need to help me get in.”

 

“Bloody hell, Hermione.”

 

That seemed to really irritate her and it showed in her next statement.  “Well, this isn’t my idea of fun.  In all the dreams of me being naked with you, none of them included the words ‘Crucio’.  Instead it was playful banter, lots of foreplay and plenty of snogging.  Certainly not helping me off of a toilet seat!”

 

Ron just stood dumbstruck at her words.  “You…you…dreamed of being naked….with me?”

 

The flush that crept over her face was pretty obvious.  Her lips moved, but no sound came forth.  Still Ron could read ‘I can’t believe I said that’ on her lips.

 

For the first time in hours, Ron smiled, feeling himself just a bit.  If she wanted playful banter, he’d give it to her.  Hell, he’d give her anything right now if it would stop her pain and bring a smile to her face.

 

“Well, Ms. Granger.  You seem to be in a frightful predicament!”  He tried to hide his smile as he continued.  “Here we have this lovely hot bath that I’ve drawn for you, just waiting to soak your aching bones and you are going to have to get naked in front of me in order to get in.  Hmmm.  Whatever shall you do?”

 

“I’ll just skip the bath, thank you.”  Hermione was reacting as expected, playing into his tone.  “I’d rather have a hippogriff sit on me, than for you to see me naked.”

 

“Is that so?”  _Enough of the playful banter._  He carefully kneeled in front of her, running his hands very softly against her arms.  “Could I change your mind with some snogging and plenty of foreplay?”  Her eyebrow arched up, that smile still lurking beneath.  He leaned in, giving her a very gentle kiss.  When he pulled back, she had lost the smile, but it was replaced by an intense look of muffled excitement.  Her deep brown eyes remained riveted on his as he leaned in for another kiss, but veered off, brushing against her jaw instead.  The next came close to her ear and she involuntarily closed her eyes, willing all the pain away to be replaced by his kisses.

 

Ron noticed that the act of tilting her head to the side, was met with a fresh stab of pain for she froze and her moan wasn’t that of pleasure.  However, Ron tried to soothe it an instant later as he whispered in her ear.  

 

“Mione.  Let me help you into the bath.  I won’t deny that I’m going to look at you, for it’s something I’ve wanted for years now, but I won’t touch except where necessary to help you.”  His lips pressed again to her neck, bringing about a sigh, this one sounding much more pleasant.

 

“Well, at least you’re honest.”  They locked eyes again for a moment and Ron took the initiative to reach behind her and fumble with the hook on her bra.  He had never done anything like this before and he congratulated himself on figuring it out so quickly.  It only took a moment for him to release the hooks and it began to fall from her body.  He then turned his attention to her knickers that lay pooled around her ankles and he tenderly raised each foot and slid the garment off.  Hermione allowed her bra to slide off and she was now holding the towel to her chest.

 

Bringing himself to a crouching position, he slid a hand behind her back and began to stand, taking her with him.  She winced and he was sure that she couldn’t help the moans of pain that still escaped, knowing she was doing her best to quash them.  He tried to support most of her weight and she took two stuttered steps toward the tub.  

 

“Here.  Just sit on the edge” he directed.

 

As he helped her over the edge of the tub her legs became immersed in the hot water.

 

“Oh, God.  That feels good.”  The anticipation of the heat on her aching torso seemed to overtake all else and she released the towel to the floor.  Ron held her arm as she slid carefully into the water.

 

A wet hand slid modestly over her chest, but by then Ron had already seen enough to supply him with numerous erotic dreams for the next month.  And, as if that wasn’t sufficiently mind-blowing, the water did nothing to hide the little triangle of brown curls that were giving Ron an uncontrollable erection.  He quickly backed up, knowing that she was nervous and stiff, pretty much the same state he was in.  If she were to turn and see him tenting his boxers…

 

“Um…I’ll be out by the fire.  Just call if you need anything.”  He was already pulling the door shut when she replied.  “Thank you, Ron.”

 

He poked his face through the opening, just before it closed.  “You’re welcome, love.”

 

***

 

Her eyes had already been closed, her sore muscles languishing in the hot water and her shoulders sank as they relaxed into the tub when she heard that last line.  Opening her eyes, she asked herself if she had really heard that.  

 

_Did he say ‘you’re welcome, love?’_   Yes, she was sure that is what she heard.  _Well, this is interesting.  Not only did he give me a pet name, but the implications of that word._   Her eyebrows rose.  _Does he love me? Hermione, you’re just being silly.  It’s just a phrase.  It probably slipped out.  He’s heard his Mum say it a million times.  Still, what if he meant it?  Do I love him?  Let’s see…_   She began to mentally tick off all of the pros and cons of loving Ron, her fingers taking inventory as she soaked.

 

  _One, I spend almost 18 hours a day with him so, I know him very well.  That’s important.  To know the person._ _Two, he makes me laugh.  Humor.  Also good._ _Three, he’s very protective and has a nasty jealous streak.  Well, that’s good and bad, but I kind of like that so, I’ll count it._ _Four, he’s attractive…God, help me, he’s attractive and he must think I am based on the fact he admitted he was going to look at me naked in the tub!  Yes, that’s definitely good._ _Five, he’s stubborn and argumentative.  That’s a negative, but then I’m stubborn and argumentative and when we fight...  No.  Hermione you can’t really think that your arguments are exciting, do you?  Admit it, Hermione.  You get turned on, fighting with Ron Weasley!_ _Six, his kiss.  His touch._

She let out a groan as she allowed her hands to run down her legs.  _I turn to absolute mush when he kisses me.  I wonder how it would feel for him to touch me._   Her left hand slid across her breast while the other ran through her warm curls.  She was just about to slip into a nice fantasy when… 

“Hermione?”  Ron’s voice broke through the door.

 

“Hmm?”  Then she realized where her mind was going.  “What?  Yes, Ron?”

 

“I just heard you and though maybe you were calling me.”

 

“Oh, um…no, I’m fine.  I was just enjoying the hot water.”

 

The door opened a tiny crack, just enough for his voice to become clearer.  “Is it helping?”

 

Hermione bent her leg, testing if her muscles would still strike out in pain, but she was moving just a bit better now.  “Yes, it is.”

 

“Oh, good.”  There was a pause.  “Okay.  Um….if you need anything…”

 

“Ron?”

 

“Yeah.”  

 

So, what she really wanted, was for him to stay and talk to her.  The problem was, she couldn’t think of anything to say that would keep him there other than the obvious and so a plan was formulated in her mind and it sprung into action with incredible speed.

 

“Could you come in and wash my back?  I can’t really reach around.  It hurts too much.”

 

***

 

The door opened a bit more.  Ron was frozen for a brief second, standing at the door and trying to wrap his head around her request.  Those darn male hormones kept interfering with his brain receptors.  Of course, he could wash her back.  That was an easy request.  _Ron, move your feet!_

 

“Yeah...um, sure.”  As he walked in to the now steamy bathroom, Hermione carefully turned herself so that her back was facing him.  She spoke over her shoulder.  “I don’t suppose there’s any soap in this place, is there?”

 

Ron grabbed the one, very worn, washcloth that had been left, assuming it was the only thing he could use.

 

“Um…I don’t think so.  The place looks pretty stripped.”  The small cabinet under the sink caught his attention and he opened the small door to check.  He was surprised to see the remains of what was once a bar of soap.  There wasn’t much left of it, but he picked it up out of the small porcelain dish.  “Well, there’s a tiny bit of some soap here.”

 

“Oh, good.”  Ron’s thoughts were swirling between her request to get clean and the more burning desire to touch her back.  He settled himself on his knees next to the tub and reached in to dip the washcloth in the water, unable to avoid looking at a very bare hip and thigh in the process.  He took the little sliver of soap and rubbed it around on the cloth and then reached up to slowly pull her hair to the side.  It was still covered in a bit of vomit from her post-Cruciatus curse heave, but he tried to avoid thinking about it and considered that maybe she would let him wash her hair and that would take care of it.

 

The washcloth was now on her shoulders and he was being very careful to move slowly and try to keep the cloth under his hand.  The thought of his hand touching her bare skin was almost too exciting to even consider and he didn’t want her to think he was trying to….oh, who was he fooling, he WAS trying to….

 

The warm water and bit of suds began to smooth over Hermione’s shoulder blades and Ron admired the way the moisture showed the tiny, soft hairs on her back and he noticed two very faint freckles.  Her skin was truly lovely, almost milky white, so smooth and he had to bite his lip to keep his fingertips from wandering off the washcloth.

 

“Hmm.  That feels good” she whispered.

 

All of the blood in Ron’s body flowed directly to his groin at those words.  _Damn right it feels good._   He moved the washcloth a bit lower, tracing along her rib cage to where the waterline met her back.  Then over to her spine and back up again.  Just when he was really getting into this and starting to enjoy it, she brought him back to reality.

 

“I hope I never have to feel that curse again.  That was the most painful thing I’ve ever experienced.”

 

Ron chided himself.  Here he was having an almost orgasmic experience just washing Hermione’s back and he’s already forgotten what put her here in the first place.  _I’m a real git, aren’t I?  She just went through something horrible and all I can think of is running my hands all over her.   You should be doing something to help.  What about a backrub?  Maybe that would help her?  Should I ask?  Or, just do it.  Better ask._

 

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.  Um…would it help if I rubbed your back a little bit?”

 

“It might.  As long as you’re careful.  I’m really stiff.”

 

_So am I.  If you only knew._   Ron’s thoughts betrayed him again for he knew that his helpful gesture had definite fringe benefits and he was about to discover the first.  He let the washcloth fall into the tub and placed his hands on her neck and started rubbing, being as gentle as possible.  First, he concentrated on the muscles in her neck, then across the tops of her shoulders.

 

She started making little mewing sounds and shifting ever so subtly as he proceeded.  Finally, he opened his palms and slid each down to her shoulder blades and pressed his thumbs underneath and stroked up her spine.

 

  _Her skin is like silk.  God, she is soft.  And warm.  Maybe if I just reach around to the sides and…Come on, Ron, focus._  

 

A tiny gasp indicated he must have hit a particularly sore spot.  “Sorry.”

 

“No.  That’s okay.  It hurts, but it feels good, too.”

 

Ron was starting to get more comfortable and decided to expand his area of coverage.  Soon his hands were moving up and down her back, gently kneading her muscles, stroking along her sides, his fingertips just skimming the sides of her breasts.  Then he added the tops of her arms, running his hands up and down her triceps.  They were soft and yet the muscles were firm inside, toned and strong.  He didn’t want to stop and wasn’t sure how long he would be able to keep going before either the water cooled, she cooled or he exploded prematurely in his boxers.  Because one of the three was going to happen sooner or later.

 

_Okay.  Time to move to Plan B.  Hair._

 

“Hermione?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“I’m not sure if you know this or not, but you have um…vomit in your hair.”

 

“I do?  Ugh, that’s disgusting!  Did I vomit?”  She scooted forward a bit as if the sight and smell of this alone should require her to put distance between them.

 

“Um…yeah, I guess.  I found you kind of laying in it.  I could wash it for you.”  His arms were still resting on the edge of the tub and she looked over her shoulder at him.  “You wouldn’t mind?  I mean…yuck.  Oh, I need a toothbrush.”

 

“That I can’t help with, but there’s a bit of soap left and well…”

 

“That would be very nice, if you don’t mind.”  She turned back to face forward and Ron scooped her hair back off of her shoulder.  He started trying to scoop some of the water up from the tub and pour it over her hair, but after several attempts, he was getting more water on himself than on her.

 

“Hermione.  This might work better if you stood up and we turned the shower on.  That way we can get your hair wet and you don’t have to sit in the…you know…stuff that we wash out.  Do you think you could stand or are you too weak?”

 

Hermione seemed to hesitate and Ron paused, wondering if he had said something wrong.  It only took a moment before he understood her silence.  She was picturing herself standing stark naked under the shower head with him watching her behind.  Suddenly he felt this throat swell and he knew his vocal chords were completely locked up.  If that wasn’t the most erotic vision he could imagine, then he’d eat his shoe!  Maybe she wanted to wash it herself?  Just lifting her arms seemed to cause her pain.  Still, he could understand her nervousness.  It was probably even stronger than his own at the moment.  Just when he was sure that she was going to decline his offer, she spoke up.

 

“Yes, that would probably be best.  I think I can stand.”

 

Ron felt very energetic.  He popped up and quickly turned the water back on, testing the temperature and pulling the stopper out of the tub.  She just sat, holding her legs to her chest for a moment until she started to shiver from the lack of heat around her. 

 

“Won’t you get all wet, trying to do this?” she asked.

 

“Maybe a little, but I don’t mind.  Why don’t you stand up and I’ll turn on the shower.”

 

She did, very slowly and with his help under her arm.  Spinning the knob around, the spray shot through the head and a moment later, Ron’s best efforts to keep himself under control flew out the window as he took a very long moment to stare at Hermione’s naked, round bum and the thighs that stretched out below.  At least it felt like a very long moment, although it was probably only a couple of seconds.  She moved under the spray and her hair began to soak up the moisture and form into little ringlets.

 

Ron was almost paralyzed with desire, but forced himself to grab the little sliver of soap and work it around in his hands until he had a minimal amount of lather.  Finally, he reached into her hair and started to rub his fingers through her curls, doing his best to wash out the offending substances and gently massaging her scalp as he went.  Her hands reached up in front of her and pressed against the tile as her head fell back, allowing her hair to cascade down his arms.

 

Even as Ron continued with her hair, he allowed his eyes to roam over her supple shape and his nipples hardened as the cool air hit his now damp chest.  The spray was indeed getting him almost as wet as her.  The urge to strip and join her in the shower was nearly overwhelming.  Heck, his boxers were already getting clingy from all the water and steam so that they didn’t really function as a true covering anymore, instead announcing to the world how aroused he was by the simple act of washing her hair.  Still, something held him back.  Something told him that no matter how much he wanted her, that he was here to help her, not ravage her like a testosterone-driven Great Dane humping some poor little poodle.

 

Another moan escaped her lips and Ron wasn’t sure if this one was one of pain or something else.  He ventured a guess that his actions were as thrilling for her as they were for him, but thought he’d better find out for sure.

 

“Does this feel good?” his hands now full of her long hair.

 

She turned her head away from the spray to speak to him over her shoulder.

 

“Ron, despite the dull ache that is reminding me of what happened today, your hands on me feel brilliant.”

 

 He gulped.  _Well, that was a surprise._

 

“Um…well, that…that’s good then, right?”  His hands had stopped moving as he contemplated her statement.

 

She shocked him even more by turning almost completely around and his eyes were paralyzed with the prospect of looking anywhere except directly at her face.  He knew what lay below and he wanted to look, no, he was dying to look.

 

She had one hand resting over her chest as she spoke.  “Ron, I realize we’ve only shared a few kisses up to this point.  A part of me wants something much more and the fact that I’m standing here naked in the shower in front of you…well…”  He watched her intently as she paused, apparently trying to formulate the rest of her thoughts.

 

“I just…I just wanted to tell you that I feel so lucky to have someone like you in my life.  Someone who really cares about me.  I mean, how many guys would do what you are doing and not try to feel me up in the process.”

 

She turned back around to face the wall and Ron continued to finger her hair, thinking about what she had said.  He knew she had offered him a compliment, but he felt guilty knowing how his thoughts had definitely been ‘feeling her up.’  At least his hands hadn’t acted.  Thoughts he could keep to himself, at least for a while.

 

He told her to shift back into the water a bit more to rinse it out, which she did immediately.  Allowing himself one more glance at her delicious bum, he reached down and shut off the shower and then grabbed a towel behind him.

 

“Here’s one for your hair.  Um..there’s another one on the sink.”

 

She took the towel and was wrapping it around her head.  “Thank you, Ronald.”

 

“Yeah, sure.”  He was about to leave, but added one more thing.  “Do you need any help getting out?”

 

“I think I can manage.  This helped a lot.”  She smiled over her shoulder and shivered as the cool air now enveloped her.

 

“Okay.  Well, you’re probably getting cold.  I’ll just go check the fire and wait for you.”  As soon as he walked out of the room and closed the door, he looked down at his bulging and soaked boxers.  He was pretty wet and then he got a similar shiver and moved toward the fireplace. 

 

The nice thing about magical fireplaces were that they stayed strong a bit longer and somehow Ron considered that this being a safe house must have something to do with the fact that this fire hadn’t died down barely at all.  It was still raging brightly, something he was grateful for at the moment as the rest of the house was quite chilly.

 

His boxers were getting very uncomfortable and he looked toward the bedroom to make sure Hermione wasn’t on her way out and quickly slipped them off, draping them over the arm of the chair.  With all haste, he grabbed his dry trousers and put them on, experiencing the odd feeling of having them against his bare skin.  Then he grabbed his t-shirt which now appeared dry and slipped it over his head.

 

He heard the door to the bathroom open and a moment later, Hermione was shuffling out, albeit slowly with a towel around her head and her white school blouse back on.  The bath and his massage may have helped, but it was pretty obvious that the after effects of that curse were still causing her some discomfort.  He knew that she would be sore for several days, depending on how long she had been under.  This was something he didn’t want to think about, for the picture of Hermione writhing on the ground and vomiting wasn’t a pleasant thought, in fact, it made him angry.

 

***

 

Hermione noticed Ron’s fists wrapped in the blanket on this lap.

 

“Are you alright, Ron?”  She glanced between his hands and his face and he released his grip.

 

“Yeah.  I’m fine.  Just thinking about the battle from earlier and it just makes me so angry.  I wonder if Harry and Ginny got away alright.  Tonks told me that he did, but I hope they didn’t end up like us, in some abandoned house with basically nothing.  God.  What about Neville?”

 

She eased herself down onto the mattress next to him as he emptied his brain of all these thoughts, pulling the blanket over her legs. 

 

“He was hurt pretty bad.  I tried to stop the bleeding and put my cloak over him to keep him warm.  I hope someone found him.”

 

Hermione’s thoughts had turned to her friend and she was very worried but surprised at Ron’s next statement.  “I found him, Hermione.  Seamus and Dean came over and took him into the castle.”

 

“Oh, that’s wonderful news.”  Silence stretched between them as they listened to the fire crackle for a moment.

 

“Ron, you were wonderful out there today.  You helped those little boys and girls and you rescued me.  I’d be either dead or captured if you hadn’t found me.”

 

“You don’t know that.  I don’t ever want you to say that kind of stuff.  You know I’d never give up until I found you.”  His hand creeped across the blanket and found hers.  “Besides, I owe you one.”  He looked up at her face.

 

Hermione cocked her head, confused.  Ron glanced back down at their entwined hands.  “You took care of me that night in the forest.  So, it’s my turn to take care of you.”

 

She smiled, thinking back to that night.  “Seems like we have our longest conversations when one of us is hurt.”

 

“Yeah” he chuckled.  “Well, we have each other’s undivided attention, don’t we?”

 

Once again, the silence grew as the fire was the only sound in the room.  But, it was a comfortable silence.  His fingers started to move against hers, brushing little strokes against her palm when he asked a question.  

 

“Did you kiss me that night?”

 

It didn’t surprise her.  That night, the night he was referring to, they had spent huddled together in the forest.  Harry had left to get help and Ron was in bad shape.  Whatever that creature was, it did a lot of damage.  Ron couldn’t walk, was bleeding from multiple wounds, including several deep punctures from the creatures’ teeth.  Hermione had pulled him into her arms and held him close all night, stroking his hair, trying to heal his wounds and talking to him, trying to keep both of their minds off the situation.  Ron had finally fallen asleep, but Hermione kept watch, twice having to rebind the creature who struggled not far from them.  And to answer Ron’s question…

 

“You knew?” she turned to him.

 

“I could taste you.  I woke up and…” he licked his lips as if trying to remember the flavor of Hermione on his lips.  “I could taste you.”

 

Hermione knew he wanted to know why, but for her to tell him would both bring light to her most intimate desires and her worst fears.  To tell him would be a test of strength for her, something she didn’t have in abundance at the moment. Admitting that she loved him was one thing, but feeling forced to confess her love was even harder.  For the fear that had consumed her that night prompted her to bestow that first kiss in fear of loosing him.  The thought of him leaving this earth without knowing her lips, her love for him, was unimaginable.  And so, she had kissed him, in essence saying hello to a possible new relationship between them, and saying goodbye, should it be lost.  When he woke up and spoke to her, she knew that kiss would forever represent the beginning of their love.

 

As if on cue, Ron’s stomach rumbled, a loud gurgling sound and both of them laughed, breaking the tension between them.  “Now, I know things are getting back to normal, if Ronald Weasley’s stomach is growling.”

 

“I can’t help that I’m hungry!” he grinned.

 

Hermione turned and was looking at the cloak and her skirt lying on the chair.  That’s when she spotted his boxers and her eyes grew wide.  “Are those your boxers lying on the chair?”

 

“Yeah.  They got kind of wet.”

 

“So, what are you wearing underneath that blanket?”

 

“My trousers.”

 

“Oh, good.”

  

***

 

As the afternoon passed and evening fell, Ron and Hermione had consumed the biscuits, took turns reading the book to each other and just talked.  Hermione fell asleep again for a short while, her head resting on Ron’s leg.  It was getting dark and the only light came from the fire, which thankfully, continued to burn brightly.

 

Ron kind of enjoyed having Hermione sleep, using his leg for a pillow.  She looked like an angel lying there in the firelight, her curls draped over his thigh.  Seeing her like this took away all his lustful feelings and replaced them with a desire to care for her, protect her and watch over her as she slept.  When her steady breathing turned into soft snores, Ron couldn’t help but smile, knowing how his snores out did hers by a mile.

 

After everything that had happened in the past two days, Ron still struggled with his actions.  They had danced, very closely; kissed, very sweetly; fought, very bravely all within twenty four hours.  In fact, he went from his first kiss with her to seeing her completely naked in a shower all within that same time frame.  Something about that didn’t seem right.  They should have enjoyed their holiday together, kissed again, held hands, took walks and done other things with each other long before getting to the naked stage and yet, necessity had insisted.  So, now Ron wasn’t sure where he stood.

 

They were growing closer, much closer.  He wanted to ask her out or participate in more innocent activities where they could just be regular teenagers, but some other part of him had experienced some very raw, very male feelings that brought to light the fact that Ron wanted her.  He wanted her for himself and not in just those innocent ways.  The thought of kissing her again was an almost desperate means to an end, but one that he was opposed to doing with her in the present condition.  No.  Today he was caregiver.  Maybe tomorrow he could once again be possible boyfriend material and then maybe one day in the future, things would click once again and they would fall into the category of desire and find their way with each other in the proper order.

 

While his thoughts raced, his hand had absently been playing with her hair, occasionally brushing her cheek.  Only when she shifted did he consider that his touch would obviously disturb her.  He pulled his hand back, but it was too late as he watched her eyes flutter open and squint at the slightly depleted flames.

 

Her voice was very soft.  “How long have I been asleep?”

 

“Not too long.  Maybe an hour.  I’m sorry if I woke you.”

 

“No, I’m sorry I fell asleep.”

 

“Hermione, you need lots of rest after that curse.  You just go ahead and sleep.”

 

She pressed her hand into the floor and raised up off his leg.  “I’m getting a little stiff.  I should probably move a little bit anyway.”  Soon she was back to sitting beside him and visibly shook as a chill rushed over her.

 

“Cold?” he asked.

 

“A bit.  Looks like the fire is going down.”

 

“Yeah.  I can’t do much about it without my wand.”  Ron reached over to grab his cloak from the chair.  “Here.  Put this on.”

 

“Then what happens when you get cold?”  He was holding the arms as she slipped it on.

 

“I’ll be fine.  Don’t worry about it.”

 

“Boy, we’ve really had an eventful couple of days, haven’t we?”  She now had the cloak wrapped around her and was sitting Indian style on the edge of the mattress.  

 

He just smiled and nodded.

 

“By the way, I don’t know if I actually told you that I had a wonderful time at the ball.”

 

That made him smile even wider and he looked over at her all bundled up in his robes.  “I did, too.”

 

“You know, you’re a really good dancer.”

 

“Thanks.”  Well, since they were on to exchanging compliments, Ron figured he’d get in the act.  “You looked brilliant in that dress.  I felt like the luckiest bloke in the place.”

 

Now, that brought a blush to her cheeks.  He felt good to be the one to finally bring some color to those soft cheeks that had been looking very pale all day.  It wasn’t so scary watching her from the side, when she blushed like that and fidgeted with the edge of her skirt, but when she turned her gaze to him, he felt all the air rush out of him at once.  Her smile faded and was replaced by a look that struck down all those caring feelings and replaced them once again with the craving to touch her again.  Any part of her.  Her left hand was no longer playing with the skirt, but was resting on her left leg, just inches from his.  With as much casual grace as he could muster, he brushed a piece of fringe from his head and placed it on his right leg, just a hair away from hers.  She took the final step, inching closer and running her palm over his hand.

 

“You’re a good kisser, too.”

 

Well, that statement really sent him reeling.  As he rushed to compose a response, her hand proceeded to squeeze his.

 

“Ah…um…thanks.  I mean, you, too.”  _Oh, god, that was a brilliant response.  You’re such an idiot._   He turned away, not sure what to say or do.

 

“I was…kind of hoping…that you might do it again.”

 

Ron was so shook up, his mouth blurted out a response, just wishing to fill the silence as quickly as possible.  “Do what again?”

 

“Kiss me, silly.”

 

This time it was a mumble.  “Kiss you silly?”

 

Hermione’s exasperation shown in a sigh and she turned away again.  “Never mind.”

 

It had taken a moment for Ron’s brain to read the signals from his ears, because it was busy dealing with the butterflies in his stomach and lump in his throat, but it finally heard her reply and explained to Ron in great detail how absolutely barmy he was sounding at the moment and that he had better get his act together or else.

 

“I’m sorry.  That just kind of…caught me…off guard, I guess.  I’d love to kiss you again, but when you’re better.  Not in so much pain.  I don’t want to hurt you.”  So, now he was concerned, horny and slapping himself for being such a dolt, hoping that his last sentence had made a smooth recovery.

 

Looking back at him, this time she spoke in a whisper that only he could hear. 

 

“My lips don’t hurt.”

 

With that, all his powers of restraint and reasoning made a quick exit stage left and the next act entitled ‘carnal cravings’ moved into position.  That was all the invitation he needed and he shifted to this right and placed his hands gently on her cheeks and pulled her toward him for a soft kiss.  Without even bothering to open his eyes, he dove back in for another, this kiss stronger than any of their previous ones.

 

She kissed him back, her hands sliding over the tops of his thighs.  Their kisses progressed, deeper, longer and warmer and then, suddenly, he felt her tongue brush along his lower lip, begging for entrance.  Her mouth couldn’t help but fall open as if about to bite into something luscious.  She only managed one slightly deep breath before he was locked with her again, this time his tongue slid into her mouth and began to explore.  _Oh, my.  She’s good at this kissing.  I’d like to just lie her down and keep going._

 

One hand had found the nape of her neck, while the other slid around to her back and each time he pressed into her with his lips, he lowered her closer to the mattress.  He wasn’t sure how it actually occurred, but when he got the chance to open his eyes again, she was flat on her back and he was enjoying the best snog of his young life.

 

Ron considered that he could keep this up all night.  If her lips were truly the only thing not hurting, then he would give her everything he could in that one location.  Snogging Hermione was better than he imagined, in fact, way better than snogging Lavender.  

 

Cautious of her weakened condition, Ron settled in along side her on the mattress and continued his glorious exploration of her mouth.  Her warm lips were inviting and soft, but every few minutes he would veer off and journey across her cheek and along her jaw.  After his third trip around the cape, he settled on her ear and found that nibbling and kissing around her ear elicited some very cool responses from his prim and proper wanna-be girlfriend.

 

In fact, so far he hadn’t heard a sound from her that resembled anything having to do with pain.  This was encouraging and he decided that her neck was innocent enough grounds for his next exploratory.  Up until this point, his hands had been innocently resting on her shoulder.  However, as her collar was in the way, Ron reached up and pulled the garment away from her neck and attached his lips to her pulse point.  In doing so, he rolled just enough to press on her side and she released a strangled moan turned cry and Ron immediately pulled back and raised up.  The furrowed brow and open mouth stated very clearly that she was hurting and Ron could have slapped himself for allowing it to happen.

 

“Sorry.”

 

She took a long breath and let it out slowly, her expression relaxing again.

 

“I’m sorry, too.  I was really enjoying that.”  She offered a weak smile to back up her words.

 

“Yeah, me, too.”  She looked so beautiful and so fragile laying there beneath him.  Several years’ worth of emotions stirred within him.  Just months ago he would have been paralyzed with the idea of speaking to her about this, but whatever maturity he had recently gained, seemed to offer him the courage to go on. 

 

“I think you’re beautiful and brilliant and wonderful and….um…I want you.”  She was smiling up until that last ‘want you’ when her expression became just a bit uncertain.  It only took a second for Ron to register the connection.

 

“I mean…I wanted to ask you if…well…would you be my girlfriend?”

 

The smile came back full force.  The light shining from her eyes nearly blinded him with happiness.  “Really?”

 

“Yeah, really.  I want to be able to hold you and kiss you all the time, not just when we’re trapped in an abandoned safe house.”

 

Once again the smile faded and Ron wondered why.

 

“I’m not like Lavender, Ron.”

 

That statement took him back.  Why would she say that? 

 

“I’m not interested in a relationship that’s all snogging and a quick grope here and there that you can go boast to your friends about.”  She was trying to nudge him farther away, wincing as she did, but Ron grabbed her hands to hold her still.

 

“I never said that!  I don’t want Lavender or anyone like her.  I want you.  Stubborn, Brilliant, Beautiful, Telling me to do my homework and watch my language, Hermione Jane Granger.”  Still holding her hands, he bent back over for another soft kiss.  “So, will you?”

 

The way she was looking at him was so intense, she seemed uncomfortable with it and glanced away. 

 

“You know I will.”

 Finally, she checked for his response through low lashes and a smile.  He was getting ready for a fresh assault on her neck, now that he was officially her boyfriend.  Only the large yawn that escaped her mouth brought a halt to the proceedings.  First step in being a good boyfriend would be to turn off the randy thoughts and get her out of this place and home where she could heal. 

He stood up deciding the house was due for another viewing.  If there was anything he missed, he was going to find it this time.  A quick check revealed that Hermione’s skirt and his boxers were pretty dry.

 

“Why don’t you get your skirt back on.”  He quickly grabbed his shorts and started for the other room.  “I’ll just go change in here.”

 

When he returned, Hermione’s eyes were starting to droop as he went around checking every cabinet, every drawer, floorboards, windows and then finally, and very cautiously, the door.  It was still imperturbed based on the fact that Ron drew his hand back with lightning speed upon touching it.  Checking her one more time, she appeared to have fallen asleep and Ron was thankful, knowing that she needed it.

 

He was getting uncomfortably hungry, but decided the best course was to sleep and by morning he could see around the place better and they’d figure out a way to escape.  Just then, a rustling in the fireplace caught his attention and Ron shuffled over to investigate.

 

The coals, now low and not flaming with heat, shifted and Ron could just make out part of a face.  “Ron!  Hermione!  Are you there?”

 

“Professor Lupin?”

 

“Oh, thank God.  We’ve been looking everywhere for you!  Is Hermione with you?”

 

“Yes, she’s here.  She needs medical attention.  She was put under the Cruciatus.”

 

“Did she loose consciousness?  I mean, did she wake up yet?”

 

“Yes, she’s been awake and talking.  She’s just very stiff and sore.”

 

“I understand.  Listen, it’s going to take a while for us to get the house open.  This was an old house on the network and its coordinates weren’t completely erased out of the system.  I can’t even get all the way through this Floo, but now that we know where you are, we’ll get the charms off the house as soon as possible.  It will probably be morning before can get you out.  Can you hold out until then?”

 

“Yeah.  It’s getting cold in here.  We don’t have wands and the fire has died down.”

 

“Okay.  I’d pass you a wand, but I can’t even get that through.  We’ll work fast.  Try to keep Hermione warm.  Use your body heat if you have to.”

 

“Yes, sir.  I’ll take care of her.”

 

“We’ll be there soon.”

 

“Wait!  Professor, what about Harry and Ginny.  Are they…”

 

“They’re fine.  Ginny had a leg injury, but it’s been treated and Harry has been barking out orders for us to find you so, I would say he’s healthy.  A bit worried, but otherwise fine.”

 

Ron nodded and the face disappeared from the glowing embers.  It was getting quite chilly and he glanced back at the sleeping form of his now girlfriend, wrapped in his cloak.  He was getting tired anyway and there wasn’t anything he could do until they arrived.  So, he grabbed the blanket and straightened it out a bit.  Then he lay down next to her, tucking his arm under her head and pulling her close to him, wrapping them both in the blanket.

 

She stirred from the movement, several moans complaining at the pain of being shifted about, but then he felt her nuzzle against him.  “Ron?”  Her soft voice was muffled by his chest.

 

“Yes, love?”

 

“You’re warm.”

 

“That’s good.  They’re coming for us, Hermione.  You just sleep and they’ll be here in the morning to get us out.”

 

“Mmmm.  Just hold me.  It makes me feel safe when you do.”

 

“I’ll hold you all night.”  He lie there listening to her breathe and soon her soft snores relaxed him as he knew she was warm and secure in his arms.  With a soft kiss to the top of her head, he closed his own eyes, whispering as he allowed himself to drift off.  “You’ll always be safe with me.” 

 


End file.
